


Elements

by AestheticAcoustic



Category: South Park
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Rings, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, M/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:43:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AestheticAcoustic/pseuds/AestheticAcoustic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death and destruction has followed Damien his entire life. Grandparents, parents, little sibling, girlfriends, boyfriends… Terrible accidents took them all.  Even a few people he hadn't been fond of had met tragic deaths. Life was hard on him, but he stayed tough. Moving to a new town brought more opportunities, a higher body count, and a pretty blonde that would surely secure a very special place on the long list of the departed. At least, that was the plan. DIP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ice

Cameras clicked rapidly, their bright flashes providing further illumination on the scene that the sun could not quite provide behind its dreary clouds. Police tape kept the hungry reporters at bay, though their chatter, and that of the crowds’, could not possibly hope to be restrained behind the yellow line. People gawked and asked questions, came up with their own hypothesis on what had occurred, who had done it, and why. Police insisted there was nothing to see here, but oh, there was. 

What a sight!

A man, late 40s, heavy build, was sitting in a chair, bound, bent over, dry blood pooled in his lap. His right eye was an empty socket where something had been shoved through, destroying the eye and damaging the brain, killing him almost instantly. The other eye stared in frozen horror at the concrete below. Men in uniform patrolled the scene, searching for a murder weapon, a clue, a piece of evidence, anything, that would explain the scene. Their breaths froze in the cold Colorado air, leaving little puffs in front of their reddening faces.

“Was he shot?” Someone asked in the crowd.

“Looks like a stabbing to me.” Came another voice.

“Who did it?”

“Why is he tied to a chair?”

“Was it a fight?”

Dozens of voices mixed and mingled, providing their own commentary on the gruesome death.

“Folks!” An officer finally called out, “Please return to your day. There’s nothing to see here.”

Complaints and protests rose from the crowd as it slowly dispersed. People threw their last few glances before moving on, continuing to their jobs and errands.

The officer, a blonde man in his late 20s, turned back to the scene and stepped up beside the detective, who was crouched by the body, examining. “What’chu think? Gun shot?” Murder was rare around here, especially one so strange, and though he’d been on the force a little over a year this was the first time he’d dealt with this sort of thing.

“Nah.” The detective shook his head, his curly black hair shaking slightly, “See how the area around the wound is damp? His lap is too, and I’m willing to bet the hole in his head is nice and wet.”

The officer scrunched his face in confusion, “What’s that mean? Was he water-gunned to death?”

The detective ignored the sarcasm, “I think this man was killed with an icicle. Stabbed in the eye and through the brain, killing him.”

“Is that even possible?” The officer asked in slight disbelief.

“With enough force and a big enough icicle.” The detective stood, “It’s the perfect crime, really. No murder weapon or prints. The best we could hope for is finding a hair on the rope or chair, but chances are slim. We’d normally dust for prints, but that sort of rope just won’t work. The chair is a porous wood too, so that sucks.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up.

“Well, _fuck_!” Proclaimed the officer, “What now, Bax?”

The black man shrugged, “We get an autopsy done and go from there.” He offered the pack to the younger man, “Want one?”

“Nah.” The blonde shook his head, “My wife’s on me about quitting.”

“Tch, have fun with that, John.” The detective shook his head, chuckling some. He looked back at the scene passively, mind racing for motives, explanations, potential murderers. They still had a lot of work to do though.

### 

_“The body of 42 year old David Kovack was discovered in an alleyway on 12th Avenue in Sterling today. Police aren’t giving any details about the scene, but murder is a possibility.”_

The TV droned in the background as Phillip attended to his duties. He wiped down a table as he listened, a frown forming on his feminine face. Though he was in his early twenties, he was still rather small for a male. Many thought he was much younger or, sometimes, a girl. He wouldn’t mind if he didn’t get harassed for it all the time.

“Isn’t it just terrible?” An elderly woman at the table next to him spoke. 

“Yeah, very.” He nodded, “Murder is just dreadful. I hope they find out who did it soon.”

“Gosh, me too.” She nodded enthusiastically, “I don’t want to see anyone else hurt.”

“Me neither.” He gathered some trash and carried it to the bin before washing his hands and grabbing a notepad. There were two people seated at a table nearby, a young couple it looked like, and he quickly headed up to them. “Good afternoon.” He smiled brightly, British accent making him seem even more chipper than he already was, “I’m Phillip and I’ll be your server. What can I get you?”

### 

_“The body of 42 year old David Kovack was discovered in an alleyway on 12th Avenue in Sterling today. Police aren’t giving any details about the scene, but murder is a possibility.”_

Damien flipped through a magazine, easily able to tune out the TV thanks to the loud buzzing of the tiny drill. His back burned where a needle dug into his flesh, leaving behind black ink. The pain was something like a hot burning, but he easily tuned that out too. Soon, the noise stopped and the tattoo artist scooted away.

“All done.”

Damien grinned and tossed the magazine aside, “Let’s see it.”

The Hispanic man grabbed a mirror and held it behind Damien’s back so he could see. Bold Japanese lettering decorated his right shoulder blade. Two words, one was a couple days older, but another right below it was a darker black from being freshly done. The top read ‘Aisu’ in Japanese kanji and the second, newer one, ‘Kasai.’ Of course, no one but him would know that, since this was an English speaking country.

He smirked, “Looks great. Thanks.”

“Any time.” The artist put the mirror down and carefully patched the area, “I’m assuming you know how to take care of it?”

“Yup.” Damien nodded, waiting patiently for him to finish, “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s $75.”

Damien snagged his wallet and pulled out his card, “Take it off that, along with a ten dollar tip.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Minutes later, Damien stepped out, his black shirt over his torso again, a cell phone in his hand. Nearly 3pm, he should probably get packing. He was leaving in the morning.

He looked to the left, down a few blocks, where yellow tape was blocking off an alleyway and police were patrolling. He scoffed. 

That guy had been a total asshole anyway. So was his daughter, actually.

He carefully climbed into his sleek black car, being careful of his tattoo, and started his engine. It roared to life and in seconds he was headed down the road toward his apartment.


	2. Fire

The sound of sirens filled the cold morning air, waking up confused residents. Fire trucks raced down the street, police cars and an ambulance in tow, toward a tower of black smoke rising from a warehouse, just barely visible in the darkness of the early morning.

Detective Baxter sighed as he cruised down the street at a high speed, his partner, Jonathan, in the passenger seat, gripping the armrest tightly. “Just relax, son.” Baxter instructed, “We’re nearly there.”

“As long as we don’t cause a second scene before we get there!” John hissed, cringing heavily.

“We’re fiiiine.” Baxter grinned, “You need to learn to chill.”

John nearly screamed as they took a sharp turn. Tonight was the night he was going to die, he was sure.

They came to a halt outside the scene a few minutes later. The fire department had taken control of the small blaze and extinguished it, leaving the ground a soppy mess. The duo stepped out of the car and the black man confidently strode toward the scene, his blonde partner in tow.

“We thinkin’ arson?” Baxter asked the fire chief. 

The taller male nodded, “Possibly. There’s no electricity running to this building, so an electrical fire is pretty much impossible. The likelihood of an accidental fire is pretty low too.”

“Figures.” Baxter sighed, “It okay to head in?”

“Yeah. The structure is sound. You’re gonna wanna see what’s in there.”

That didn’t sound good. Baxter nodded and headed inside, John following close behind. The stench of charred flesh hit them immediately. Baxter lifted his scarf to his face to cover it, remaining composed, but John couldn’t help but gag slightly before doing the same.

In the center of the room sat the remains of a burned chair, rope, and a human body. Baxter knelt beside the pile of smoldering remains and carefully examined it, doing his best to ignore the awful smell.

“Same person, you think?” Came John’s muffled voice.

“Mostly likely.” Baxter replied, “Victim bound to a chair. Could be a copycat though since the method of death isn’t the same.” He frowned heavily and pulled out a pen to gesture toward some flesh lines near the rope that were pink, “See these?”

“Yeah?” John squatted beside him, examining the skin.

“These lines aren’t as burnt as the rest. See how it looks like it’s been pulled away from the rope? It’s gonna take an autopsy to prove it, but the victim may have been alive when the fire started. Victim is likely the point of origin for the fire too, but don’t quote me on that yet.”

“Jesus Christ.” John muttered, standing.

“Nah.” Baxter stood as well, “I suspect our killer is the exact opposite of Jesus Christ.”

### 

Damien stuffed the last bit of his clothing in and zipped up his suitcase. He carried it out the door, growling at the cold, and tossed it in the back of his car. He was headed for a smaller town called South Park, where he was certain he could live a pretty chill life for a while. Certainly beat this shithole of a town. Though, he would miss his tattoo guy.

He yawned as another police car sped by, headed in the opposite direction as a whole squad earlier, and very leisurely strolled back inside to check the last few rooms for anything he might have left behind. Once he was satisfied he shut off all the lights and left. He climbed into his car to begin his long journey south.

Unfortunately, he had to drive in the same direction as that smoking building. Ugh. He hoped there wasn’t a major traffic jam. He was already behind schedule enough as it were. The last thing he needed was to waste gas idling or have to get out of his car and stand there an hour while the cops searched all his shit.

His engine roared to life and he quickly left his apartment behind. The roads were relatively empty thanks to the time of day. Most everyone was either at work or at school. He cruised down the street at a steady speed, remaining cautious of the speed limit. 

Soon enough he pulled up in front of the building and, unsurprisingly, found that there was a blockade. The car in front of him had to turn around, but an officer waved him to come closer. He pulled up and rolled his window down, giving the officer a tired smile, “Afternoon, officer.”

“Afternoon.” The blonde man stepped up to his car, “Leaving town?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Been packing all week. I’m moving to South Park.”

“Ah.” The man nodded, “Well, I can let you through then. We’re just trying to deter lookie-loos.”

“That makes sense. Thanks a bunch.”

“Sure thing.” The blonde man smiled and stepped back, waving him through.

“Good luck catching the guy, officer.” He drove through carefully and sped away from the town.

### 

Phillip silently clocked out for the day shortly before bidding his manager goodbye. He bundled up before leaving the little café and heading down the sidewalk toward his small apartment. He walked briskly, not caring much for the cold night air.

He fumbled with the key a bit at the door, but finally managed to get it open and stumble inside. A huge sigh of relief escaped him as warmth embraced his chilled bones. He closed and locked his door, then kicked his shoes off and walked over to the coffee table. He flipped the TV on for some noise while he headed into the kitchen to prepare himself dinner.

_“Another body was found early this morning at a warehouse just outside Sterling. The police have not positively identified the victim yet, but say the victim was set aflame. More details as this unfolds.”_

Pip sighed and shook his head. What was the world coming to? How tragic for Sterling. Murders didn’t happen in South Park. It was a very quiet town. But, then again, so was Sterling before all this. Hopefully, they caught whoever was doing this soon so no more innocents had to die.

### 

Damien yawned as he pulled up in front of a small motel just off the highway. He parked in front and shut off his engine before climbing out. He’d been hoping to make it in to South Park before nightfall, but he still had a few hours to go, so might as well crash for the night. It was getting late and he could easily continue tomorrow.

He wandered into the lobby, a tired expression on his face, and stopped at the counter. No one was in sight so he dinged the bell a few times, quickly growing irritated.

Finally, a skinny man with a deep frown stepped out from a back room. He was older, 50s or 60s, and seemed none-too-happy about the late-night guest. “Can I help you?” He growled.

“Room for one for the night.”

“You know it’s nearly 2am, right?”

“No shit.” Damien snapped, “I just need a place to crash for a few hours.” 

“Fine, fine. It’s $50.”

“Fine.” Damien yanked his wallet out and slammed the money down on the counter. He was handed a set of keys and given a room number, to which he gave a gruff “thanks” before taking his leave.

He took his car around the back to his room, 12, and threw the door open. Though he’d been hoping to sleep soon, he knew he wouldn’t be getting much rest tonight.

Oh, well. He could always sleep in tomorrow.


	3. Water

Martin shook his head as he headed back into his room. He hated when people showed up late like this. He needed sleep too, damnit!

He climbed into bed after a few gulps of water, looking forward to a good rest. He thought he might lose his mind if one more-

_-ding!-_

Goddamnit!!

Martin snarled and jumped out of bed once again. Cursing under his breath, he stormed out into the lobby. “Wha-?!”

His sentence was cut short as something struck him over the head, sending him into darkness.

### 

Martin groaned, eyelids fluttering. He tried to move, but his body felt heavy. He realized he was sitting on something hard –a chair?– and there was something wrapped tightly around his torso, arms, and legs.

He was finally able to open his eyes and lift his head. It was dark and he could smell the surrounding forest. He was outside then? The sound of water drew his attention and he quickly realized it was running across his feet, chilling them painfully.

“Wha?!” He gasped, sitting up straighter. He was bound to a chair, it seemed, on the edges of the deep stream near his motel. His eyes fell on a dark figure before him, standing over him intimidatingly.

“You!” He gasped, eyes widening.

The dark figure did not express any emotion, merely crossed his arms, “I didn’t appreciate your rudeness earlier.”

“Please! No, I’m sorry!”

“Begging won’t save you.” His voice was a drone, as though he could not possibly care less.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Martin continued, “I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Just let me go!”

The stranger said nothing. He lifted a foot and put it in the center of the chair between Martin’s legs. With a simple push, the chair fell backward, plunging Martin under the icy water.

Martin kicked and struggled, but to no avail. His lungs burned and his heart pounded as he struggled for air. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours, as he felt his head growing light and his body tired. His struggles slowed and soon he was once again, for a final time, swallowed by darkness.

### 

Damien stretched his sore muscles before sitting up with a soft groan. Sunlight streamed in through a crack in the heavy drapes, lighting up the dim room. He checked the time, almost 1 in the afternoon, and sighed heavily.

Time to go.

He climbed out of bed, put on his clothes from the previous day, and headed out. He dropped the key off at the office, but didn’t see anyone, so merely left it on the counter and took his leave.

There was a coffee shop down the road which he was more than happy to come across. He bought himself the biggest, strongest drink available and took off again, leaving the tiny town in his rear view mirror.

As expected, South Park was only a few more hours down the road. He smiled once he passed a big sign reading “Welcome to South Park” and quickly gulped down the rest of his coffee, which had gone cold. He pulled into a small café first, realizing he hadn’t eaten that day, and decided lunch would be smart before he went to his new apartment, seeing as he didn’t have any food there yet.

A bell chimed when he walked in. It was a small place with two tables but several booths along walls with large windows. He took a seat near the door, deciding against grabbing a menu, and looked up at a TV mounted on the wall.

_“The body found burnt in the warehouse was positively ID’d as Sara Kovak, daughter to David Kovak who passed the previous day. Still no word from police on whether the two are actually connected or if it was a tragic coincidence, nor is there any word on suspects or new evidence.”_

Damien scoffed and decided to stare out the window instead. The sun was setting on the horizon, creating breathtaking pink hues. He rather liked living in the country. It was easier to see sunsets like this and billions of stars in the night sky.

“Good evening.” Came a chipper, British voice, gaining his attention. “I’m Phillip and I’ll be your server. What can I get you?”

Dark eyes fell on the boy. Blonde hair pulled back in a short ponytail, big blue eyes, freckles, nice plump lips, and a dazzling smile. His small frame made him look rather frail, though that wasn’t what caught Damien’s attention. It was the kindness in those pretty blue eyes. He struck Damien as someone who was very trusting and eager to please. 

Damien smirked, “Your phone number.” No one could ever say he wasn’t blunt.

“Oh! Um!” The boy, Phillip, became flustered, “Well, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“About seven numbers would be awesome.”

“Oh, my.” A wonderful blush spread across his face, “I-I only have a home phone, so…”

“I still heard phone.”

“Oh, uh, yes.” An embarrassed smile made its way onto his pretty lips, but it was quickly wiped away and replaced with a look of realization, then caution, “Did Cartman put you up to this?”

“No idea who that is.” Damien stated matter-of-factly, “Got into town literally five minutes ago.”

“Oh. That explains that then.”

Damien hummed, moving on, “You lived here long?”

“Yes.” Phillip nodded, “Most of my life. I was born in Britain, but you probably already guessed that…”

“Mhm.” A smirk crawled onto his lips again, “Gimme your number and we can hook up later. I’m getting an apartment in town. You can show me around.”

“Um…” The boy seemed apprehensive, “I don’t know that you’d want to be seen around with me.”

“Who _wouldn’t_ want to be seen with you, gorgeous?”

“Oh, gosh, okay.” Phillip’s cheeks tinted pink again and he tried to hide behind his notepad. 

Far too cute.

“Awesome. You can write your number on my check.”

“Okay.” The boy nearly squeaked again, “Um… What, what will you have?”

“A cheeseburger with everything on it and a side of fries, if you got that.”

“Yes.” The blonde nodded, scribbling on his notepad, “What to drink?”

“Either Coke or Pepsi, don’t care which.”

“We have Pepsi.”

“Sounds fantastic then.” He winked, “I look forward to seeing your number on my bill, Phillip.”

Phillip giggled, “Okay. You can just call me Pip though. Everyone else does. I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name?”

“Damien.” He held his hand out for the other to take.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The blonde smiled, shaking his hand.

“Oh, trust me, the pleasure is all mine, Pip.”

### 

Damien waved goodbye some time later as he headed out the door, leaving Pip feeling flustered. Once he was gone, Pip couldn’t help a small squeal as his emotions got the better of him. He was crushing on tall, dark, and handsome pretty hard, he was sure.

“He was hot, wasn’t he?” Bebe spoke up from beside him.

“Very.” Pip agreed, nodding.

“Shoulda got his number.”

“He got _mine_.” Pip giggled.

Bebe gasped, “What??”

“He asked for my number, so I wrote it on his bill.”

She gasped again, a huge grin spreading across her face, a let out a soft, controlled scream. 

Pip laughed, “I know!”

“He’s so hot!”

“I know!!”

“He asked for your number oh my god!”

“ _I know_!!”

The two burst into giggles, unable to contain their sheer joy. Pip felt like he was on cloud nine. Someone was actually interested in him! He’d always worried very much about being alone his whole life, but maybe things would work out with Damien. Though, even if they didn’t, this did give him some hope. Maybe he was actually kind of attractive, people in this town just didn’t like him much. That seemed like a good incentive to finally move out of this town once he’d saved up some money.

The butterflies in his stomach made work difficult due to the distraction. He was off a few hours later and quickly made his way home.

He wasn’t in the door two minutes before the phone rang. He gasped softly and plopped down on the couch, staring at it in disbelief. 

Don’t answer too quickly, might seem desperate.

He reached out and picked it up slowly, heart pounding. “Hello?”

_“Hey, gorgeous.”_ Came Damien’s smooth voice, making his heart soar.

“H-hi.” God, what should he say??? He sounded so stupid!

_“How was work?”_

“Um, fine. You were certainly the highlight of my evening.”

_“Good to know. Are you free tomorrow?”_

“Oh, no. I have work. I’m free the day after though.”

_“Fantastic. I have to settle in anyway. Get groceries and some furniture, that fun stuff.”_

“Do you like your new apartment?” He was surprised to find it was pretty easy to talk to Damien, actually. He relaxed against the couch, calming significantly.

_“Yeah, it’s nice. Kind of empty right now, but it ain’t bad. Plenty of space for one person. Certainly enough room for two.”_

“Oh, that’s nice.” His face heated up as he tried to keep his composure. What was Damien implying?

_“You should definitely come over some time. We can watch a movie or play games or just hang out…”_

“That sounds wonderful.”

_“Awesome. Do you work a lot?”_

“Yeah. I live in a pretty small apartment, but I have to work a lot to afford my bills.”

_“That sucks. Is your lease up soon?”_

“In a few months. Why?”

_“Well, not to jump the gun, but it would be cool to have a roommate. Plus, it helps with the bills.”_

“That’s true.” He smiled shyly.

_“We’ll talk more about that later though. We still got a couple months.”_

“So, where’d you move here from?”

_“Sterling.”_

“Oh, wow.” His eyes widened, “Did you hear about the murders?”

_“Yeah. Brutal. I actually passed by the warehouse where that girl burned on the way out of town. A cop stopped me and everything.”_

“Wow…”

_“Yeah, and the other was just a couple blocks down from where I was getting my tattoo.”_

“Wow.” Tattoos? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d always heard that people with tats were bad people, but Damien seemed incredibly pleasant.

_“Is that okay? You sounded a little upset.”_

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’ve just never met someone with tattoos. Doesn’t it hurt?”

_“Yeah, but they look cool. It doesn’t hurt too bad anyway.”_

“What do you have?”

_“I got the Japanese kanji for ice and fire on my back. Is there a tattoo parlor here in town? Cuz I’d like to add water soon. I’m working on collecting several elements. Still need ground, air, and electricity.”_

“Oh, that’s kind of neat. Can I see them?”

_“Of course. I’d love to take my shirt off for you.”_ He could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Ohmygosh.” He whispered, becoming flustered again.

Damien laughed, _“You’re adorable, you know that? Man, I can’t wait to hang out tomorrow. Can I treat you to lunch and maybe dinner?”_

“Sure, if you really want to…”

_“I really do.”_

“Okay.” He squeaked. Everything was going so well!

_“Awesome. Well, I guess I’ll let you get to bed since you have work tomorrow. Can I call you tomorrow evening? Or stop by and see you?”_

“Of course! Either of those is fine, or both, I’m not picky.”

_“Perfect. Goodnight, Pip.”_

“Goodnight, Damien.”

_“I hope you have a good day tomorrow.”_

“Oh, thank you, you too!”

_“Thanks! Bye.”_

“Bye.”

Pip held the phone to his ear until he heard the line click. He placed it back on the receiver and sighed, heart fluttering. 

Wow, his first date! He couldn’t wait.

### 

No new murders today, it seemed. Thank goodness. They needed a day to just breathe and investigate the other two.

Baxter tapped his pen against the desk, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped against the wall. He rocked himself as he stared at the ceiling, thinking.

“Can you not do that?” A red-haired woman a few feet from him asked, “It’s distracting.”

“You got anything for me yet?”

“No.” She growled, continuing to look through her microscope.

“Then I need something to do while I wait.”

“Ugh! Go down to autopsy and see if Darla has something for you!”

“I’ve done that like eight times now and she never does. She told me I’m not allowed to come back for at least an hour.”

“ _Ugh_.”

“Aw, come on, Jessica, you know we have fun.”

Jessica said nothing as she continued her examination. After a moment she lifted her head and scribbled something on her notepad, “Alright. Hair is black and most likely belongs to a male younger than 50.”

“Well, that’s helpful.”

“Oh, shut up. What do you want from me??”

Baxter dropped his chair back onto all fours and stood. He walked over to her and patted her on the back, “Nothing. You’re doing fantastic, thank you. I’ll go bug someone else now.”

“ _Thank_ you.” She grumbled, but soon a smile spread across her face, “Good luck, Bax.”

“Thank you, Jess.”


	4. Earth

Damien smiled when he pulled to a stop in front of the small café. He climbed out of his car, being careful of his two new tattoos. Apparently, South Park did have a tattoo parlor and he was quick to get his newest one while out getting groceries the previous day.

He spotted Pip inside, watching the television. He quickly headed inside and walked up behind him, watching the news as well.

_“A body was discovered late yesterday evening in a river several miles outside of Breckenridge. The victim has been positively ID’d by family as Martin Mathews, the owner and operator of a local motel. Though some aspects of the crime appear similar to those committed in Sterling, no word yet on whether or not they’re connected, this is a copycat, or it’s just mere coincidence.”_

“Breckenridge isn’t very far from here.” Pip informed, worry in his voice, “That’s so scary.”

“Don’t worry.” Damien reassured, wrapping his arms around the boy, “I won’t let some psychopath hurt you.”

“Awww.” Pip smiled, blushing heavily, “You’re too sweet.”

“You’re the sweet one.”

“Ugh!” A blonde girl, Bebe, whom he’d met the previous day while visiting with Pip, yelled nearby, “You’re _both_ too much! Get out of here before I get diabetes or something!”

“Sorry.” Pip blushed.

Damien grinned and grabbed his hand instead, “Come on. I saw a nice place by the tat shop that I’d like to try if it’s cool with you.”

“Oh, that’d be wonderful!” The younger male smiled brightly.

They headed into town together and stopped in front of a mid-sized building with “La Cabana” painted across the top. Both males climbed out of the car together and walked inside. It was dimly lit, with various colorful lights draped along the walls. Hispanic music was coming from all around them.

“Welcome to La Cabana!” A Hispanic man greeted them, “Table for two?”

“Yes, please.” Damien nodded.

They were led to a booth in the corner and given two menus. They each ordered a soda to drink as they took their seats and soon they were on their own.

“I’ve never been taken out somewhere before.” Pip explained as he looked around, excitement on his features, “This place is very nice. It’s so lovely here.”

Damien smirked and grabbed Pip’s hand, bringing it to his lips, “I see something much lovelier.”

The blonde’s eyes widened and a blush spread across his freckles cheeks. He giggled, smiling shyly, “Oh, my goodness…!”

Damien gently kissed his knuckles, earning himself another round of giggles. This boy was like putty in his hands.

He had him exactly where he wanted him.

### 

“What do you got for me?” Baxter asked as he entered the well-lit room, the smell of bleach hitting his nose hard.

Darla whirled around, a huge smile on her lips, “We’ll play charades! You have to guess what I’m doing, and that’s what happened to the vic. Okay, go!” She rolled her eyes back and began choking, tongue lolling out dramatically.

Baxter sighed. The Hispanic woman could be quite eccentric, even more so than him. “Drowning?”

“Ding!” She smiled again, “We have a winner! He definitely drowned. No drugs in his system, but he did take a hit to the head. It probably knocked him unconscious so our murderer could tie him to the chair. He was conscious when he drowned though, I’m sure.”

“Damn.” Baxter shook his head, “You think it’s the same guy?”

“Yes, actually.” 

“Fuck.” Baxter groaned. That would mean he was on the move. “Based on what evidence?”

She quickly grabbed a chart, “I’ve got a hypothesis you might find interesting, knowing you.”

“Shoot.”

“Alright, vic one was stabbed with an icicle. Vic two, burned to death. Vic three, drowned. The only thing they have in common is the chair, which we only told the media occurred with the first vic. No one but the police force and the killer know that vics two and three were killed with the chair too.”

“Could be copycats.”

“Yes, but hold on. Ice, fire, and water are all elements. It’s a far stretch, I know, but what if that’s his game?”

Baxter scrunched his nose, “I’m not sure. The hotel manager almost certainly wasn’t premeditated.”

“What if our killer doesn’t need that though? What if he just knows how he wants to kill someone and the victim is irrelevant?”

“Wouldn’t he need some sort of premeditation for something like that?”

“To an extent. What if he already has several elements in his head and how to kill for each one, so he just picks the one that will work best at the time and goes from there. Like I said, I know it’s farfetched, but it kind of makes sense.”

It did make sense, actually. Darla was a smart woman and very creative, so of course she’d be able to piece together something like this.

“Shit.” Baxter breathed, “That would mean he’s out of Sterling though and headed south. Who knows where he could be now??”

“Well, you could always find out if anyone’s come through town or if someone has left. That’s a start.”

“Right, right.” He nodded, “Thanks, Darla. It’s always a pleasure talking to you.”

“You too, Bax.” The Hispanic woman smiled brightly, “Good luck!”

### 

Phillip couldn’t help but swoon as he was led down the street, their fingers entwined. Damien was absolutely charming, that was for sure. He was handsome and kind and quick-witted and smart. The blonde could hardly comprehend what such a perfect man saw in him, but he wasn’t going to question it. He was enjoying himself far too much.

“Want to rent a movie?” Damien suggested, casting him a lopsided grin, “I don’t have my TV hooked up to my laptop yet.”

“That sounds great.” The Brit beamed.

“Awesome. What sort of movies do you like?”

“Oh, I don’t really care. Whatever you like is fine.”

“Horror then.” Damien smirked, “If I get you nice and scared you’ll have no choice but to let me hold you and comfort you.”

“Oh, dear.” The blonde blushed, “I don’t know if that’s devious or genius.”

“A little of both, I’ll admit.”

They stepped into a warm building full of colorful DVDs and TVs mounted on the walls. Damien led them to the horror section where he grabbed up a particularly gory looking title. “How about this? Feast.”

“That looks awful.” Pip whined, “I’m not sure I’m a fan of horror movies. People dying is just too sad.”

“Aw, alright. We can find something else. You like action?”

“Sure!”

Damien set the title back down and made to lead Pip to a different aisle, but someone stepped into their path. A chubby boy with brown hair and a deep frown.

Pip gasped, blood running cold. “Cartman.”

“Pip!” The boy grinned, “I haven’t seen you around since high school. Still working your dead-end job?”

The blonde looked at the ground, instinctively stepping closer to Damien, “Yes, I still work at the café.”

“That sucks. Who’s this? Haven’t seen him around.”

“Damien. He just moved here from Sterling.” Pip explained, keeping his eyes down.

Damien spoke up, “I’m his boyfriend.”

The words made Pip’s heart soar. He smiled brightly despite his fear, feeling euphoric. 

His first boyfriend!

Cartman glared, “Is he blind? Gay or not he could clearly do better than-” He was cut off when Damien very swiftly released Pip’s hand and took a large step closer to him, towering over him intimidatingly.

“Move.” Damien said simply, voice darker than usual. From the angle, Pip could not see what sort of look he was giving Cartman.

Cartman stared at him wide-eyed, frozen, unable to form words.

“I _said_ move.” Damien growled again, “Or _I’m_ going to move you.”

The chubby boy finally took a few steps backward, unblocking the aisle.

Damien grabbed his boyfriend’s hand again and pulled him past him, no longer paying attention to the chubby male. “How do you feel about Marvel?” He asked Pip, his voice back to its deep but pleasant tone.

“ _Psychopath_.” Cartman whispered fearfully behind them, but Pip ignored him. He was the psychopath here, not Damien. Damien was an angel.

“I love Marvel stuff, especially Iron Man.”

“Oh, yeah?” Damien grinned at him, “Tall, dark, and handsome seems to be your type, doesn’t it?”

Pip smiled shyly, a blush spreading across his features, “I would say so, yes.”

“Good to know.”

They stopped in the action section and Damien found the Marvel movies, “You don’t mind if we stop by the tattoo parlor after this, do you? I have inspiration for my ground tat.”

“Oh, um. Sure, I guess.”

“Are you sure? I can get it later when you’re not with me.”

“No, I don’t mind.” He smiled some, “I’d kind of like to see how it’s done, I guess.”

“Awesome. You can hold my hand and help me through it.” He grinned, lifting his hand to place a kiss on it.

Naturally, Phillip could not help but swoon.

“First though, we need to choose a movie. Is there one you haven’t seen?”

“I’ve only seen the first of the Iron Man series.” Pip informed, spotting them, “Can we watch the next one?”

“Sure. Might as well get all three and marathon it.”

“I have work tomorrow… I can’t be out late.”

“Oh, okay. Well, we can watch one or two tonight and another later.”

“Alright.” The Brit smiled once more.

They snatched all three DVDs and checked out, then carried the bag down the street to the tattoo parlor. Pip sat down on a plush couch while Damien and the tattoo artist discussed the newest addition. He watched his boyfriend’s movements with interest. The way his body bent and shifted, the way he’d bounce around a bit as he spoke, the way his hands moved as he described something. Damien was a very animated person, it seemed, at least when it came to his tats.

Finally, the artist stood and walked into a smaller cubicle with a weird chair in it. Damien followed and Pip gasped when he leisurely removed his shirt, revealing a toned chest and back and patches where his other tattoos were. He straddled the chair and rested his arms on the back, sitting relaxed.

They caught eyes. Damien grinned and lifted his hand, using one finger to gesture Pip to come closer. A blush spread across freckled cheeks as Pip stood and walked over.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Damien purred, winking at him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Hi.” Pip grinned shyly.

The taller man offered him his hand, which the blonde was more than happy to take. 

A buzzing started, making Pip cringe a bit. After a moment, Damien hissed slightly and squeezed his hand, only to relax again a second later, grin back in place.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yeah, but it’s not too bad. Much better with you here, actually.”

God, that smile could charm a cobra.

“You’re too much.”

“I don’t think I’m too much. Just enough seems about right.”

Pip couldn’t think of a thing to say, merely giggled. His smile was wiped off his face when Damien hissed again and squeezed his hand briefly. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Some places hurt worse than others.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault. Know what would make me feel tons better though?” That wonderful grin spread across his face again.

“What?” Pip couldn’t help but mimic it rather shyly.

“A kiss.” He lifted his chin some.

“Oh, um.” Pip faltered, “I’ve never kissed someone before.”

“First kiss, huh? Want it to be more special?”

“Well…” He didn’t want to say yes and disappoint his boyfriend, but, yes, he had been hoping for something nicer than a quick smooch in a tattoo parlor.

Damien chuckled, “That’s fine. How about a kiss on the cheek instead? That sound acceptable?”

“Yes.” Pip smiled, nodding some. The thought made him a little nervous, actually, but he felt bad about admitting that.

Damien turned his head, gesturing toward his cheek. Pip leaned down hesitantly and pressed a soft kiss against it before standing back up.

“Thank you. I feel much better now.” Damien said confidently.

“I’m glad… I was actually kind of expecting you to turn your head and kiss me anyway…” That happened in movies all the time. “I’m glad you didn’t…”

“Of course I wouldn’t do that. You said you wanted to wait and I respect that. What kind of a relationship would this be if you couldn’t trust me?”

Pip beamed, “You’re so amazing.”

Damien smirked slyly, which the blonde found strange, but he didn’t have time to question it. The dark haired man nodded toward his back, “Did you wanna check that out?”

The Brit bit his lip slightly, but nodded. He kept hold of Damien’s hand as he took a couple steps to the side, peering around to see how this worked.

The tattoo artist held a device in his hand that resembled a thick pen, but had a wire connecting to it. He worked diligently, coloring in a large patch of black on Damien’s back. It looked as though he were merely drawing on the flesh with sharpie, but he knew there was a tiny needle working at a fast pace to press ink beneath the flesh.

Pip stepped back, squeezing Damien’s hand, “That’s kind of neat, actually.”

“Yeah.”

“And you said it doesn’t hurt so bad?”

“Nah. Over bone is the worst, but places with more fatty tissues don’t suck so much. Maybe we can get matching ones on our shoulders someday. Little hearts with each other’s names in them.”

“Maybe.” Pip giggled, smiling brightly.

It was like Damien knew exactly what he wanted to hear before he himself even knew.

Almost an hour later the drill silenced, leaving behind bold black coloring. A patch was put over the area and Damien gently pulled his shirt on over it. He paid the man and the duo left hand-in-hand.

They arrived at Damien’s apartment mere minutes later. The apartment was simple, cozy, and sparsely decorated. A typical bachelor’s apartment, one would guess. There was a couch with a TV in front of it and a DVD players and game system under that. Damien gave him a brief tour, showing him the kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, before pulling him down onto the couch. 

“Did you have fun today?” Damien asked, squeezing his hands.

Pip nodded, “Yes, lots. Can we do it again sometime?”

“Of course.” The taller male leaned in to place a kiss on his forehead, “Next time you’re off we’ll go out again.” He let him go and stood, “I really need to shower after my tattoo. Is it okay if I put on the first movie for you and do that? It won’t take long.”

“Oh that’s perfectly okay.” Pip smiled, “I’ll be here.”

“Awesome.” He stepped over to the DVD player and within moments Iron Man was visible on the TV. He hit play and tossed the remote on the couch, “Be back soon.”

“Okay. Enjoy your shower.” He watched Damien’s retreating form head down the hallway before turning his attention to the movie.

So engrossed he became in the movie he failed to notice Damien’s return several minutes later until a hand settled on his shoulder. He looked up at the older man and felt his face heat up. Damien’s hair was still dripping and he was shirtless. That gorgeous smirk wasn’t helping.

“Will you do me a massive favor?” Damien asked.

Pip nodded, tearing his eyes away from Damien’s buff chest, “Yes, of course.”

“Awesome.” He plopped down on the couch, sitting facing away from him, exposing his back, and offered Pip a packet of some sort of gel, “Will you, very gently, spread that over my tats. It’s to help them heal better by keeping them from drying out. Helps the itch too.”

“Alright.” Oh, wow. He was about to touch his boyfriend’s naked back. He felt more than a little flustered.

He opened the packet and poured a large amount into his hand, then carefully pressed his hand to Damien’s back. He very gently spread the gel around, marveling at the feel of both muscle and the slightly raised flesh on the tattoos.

It was done in moments and he had to tear his hand away, lest he seem like a creep. He stood and headed into the kitchen to wash his hands. When he returned several seconds later Damien had his shirt back on and was sitting leisurely on the couch. He cast the blonde a smile and patted the spot next to him.

Pip happily sat down beside him, resting against his torso. Damien’s arm draped around his shoulders, holding him close and drawing a contented sigh from him.

Paradise.

### 

Cartman stared at his ceiling, the darkness obscuring the tiny bumps on it. The clock next to him glowed in angry red letters 12:43am.

He couldn’t sleep. Those dark, murderous eyes were burnt into his brain, exposing themselves as soon as he shut his eyes. Those were the eyes of a psychopath, of a man who’d killed before and felt no remorse for it, a man who would surely kill again.

A man who was surely going to kill him.

Every little sound made him jolt and whimper, the paranoia preventing him from sleep. He’d never been so shaken before, his own murderous rage keeping his confidence at its maximum. He’d looked into the eyes of a fellow psychopath today though, one much worse than himself. One who’d killed before for no other reason than the sheer joy of it.

He gasped when he heard something in the living room. He considered hiding under his blankets until morning, but anger overcame him. He wasn’t going to let some shithead scare him like this! How dare he be made to cower in his own home!

He jumped out of bed and grabbed his baseball bat as he crossed his room and opened his door. The house was dark, silent, eerie, as he carefully stepped out, bat poised at the ready, and slowly crept down the hall. The floor boards seemed to creek with every step and his breathing sounded like a fucking jet engine. His heart was hammering in his ears, making it nearly impossible to listen for small noises.

Something moved across his feet, making him gasp sharply and swing at it. He barely missed his cat, who jumped and ran down the hall.

Ugh! Fucking _cat_!

He growled softly, suddenly feeling foolish. Of course no one was here. It was just his stupid cat screwing around and making noise.

Something moved behind him and he rolled his eyes, hissing softly, “Ugh, get out of here Mr. Kitt-”

### 

His head throbbed, making his entire body feel like it was aching. He was cold, God so cold, and an icy wind seemed to chill him to the bone. The smell of fresh air greeted him and the feel of hard wood against his butt and back. Something rough was keeping him tied down, making his skin feel raw and itchy.

Cartman groaned softly and opened his eyes. It was dark, but he could make out dirt and snow. God, it was so fucking cold. He lifted his head with some effort and could feel a slight stickiness on the side of his face.

Someone was standing in front of him, tall, dark, a baseball bat in one hand balanced on the ground like a cane. 

“I don’t usually hit people hard enough to make them bleed.” The figure spoke, a familiar, deep voice filling the cold air, “But I couldn’t restrain myself this time around. Too much anger. I’m sure you can relate.”

“Oohhh…” Cartman groaned in horror, “Damien, please…”

Damien’s cold stare was unwavering, those murderous eyes full of hatred. He lifted the bat, swinging it idly as he stepped closer, “You know, I really didn’t appreciate those things you said to my boyfriend today.”

“Please!” Cartman begged, “I’ll never be mean to him again, I-I swear! I’ll kiss his ass every day, or-or never talk to him again! Anything you want!” He wasn’t too proud to let the tears start falling.

“Aw, no reason to cry.” Damien spoke, his neutral expression never changing, “Your death won’t hurt that much, I’d guess. Sara was _burned_ to death for what _she_ did. I don’t know what it felt like, but her screams were a good indicator that it must have been pretty Hellish. Speaking of, you can ask her if you see her in Hell. Though, I imagine if that place actually exists then you’ll probably know about what it feels like to burn.”

“God, I knew it, you’re fucking crazy…” Cartman sobbed, “Please, Damien, please… Have mercy…”

“I don’t know mercy.” With one swift movement he kicked the chair backward, sending it and Cartman down into a deep hole.

Cartman cried out in pain as he hit the bottom, his entire body feeling the fall. He groaned softly, his head feeling light, and after a moment tried to struggle free of his ropes.

Dirt hit his face, making him cough and spit. More dirt soon followed, then more and more. Realization of what was happening set in, sending horror and panic through his very being.

“No!” He screamed, “No, please! Please!!” His screams were silenced by more dirt. More and more and more until it covered his face and weighed down on his chest, making it impossible to breathe. His struggling soon stopped and his vision went black. A heaviness set in, crushing the very life out of him, until, finally, he felt nothing any longer.


	5. Air

John sighed heavily, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration. It had been more than a week since the last killing and they still had virtually nothing. A few suspects who’d left town, some rumors about old grudges, and a hair was all they had to go on.

Ugh.

He flipped through some photos for the thousandth time, looking over familiar faces of people who were no longer living in Sterling. He paused at one, a man with black hair, whom he felt he should know something about. He’d never paid much attention to him before because he didn’t really know him, but he felt he _should_. That face was weirdly familiar….

_“Good luck catching the guy, officer.”_

Goosebumps crawled up John’s neck. At the time, he’d thought the statement was a little strange since they hadn’t released word about the body yet, but had brushed it off as news spreading fast in a small town. 

Now, though, that seemed far too suspicious.

He jumped up from his chair and jogged down the hall to Baxter’s office. The black man was sitting behind his desk, glaring hard at some papers, as though maybe they’d relent and give him a clue if he just scared them enough.

“Bax!” John gasped, “I think I might have something.”

He had Baxter’s attention immediately, “What??”

John walked in and offered him the photo, “This guy. He left town the day of the second murder, said he was moving to South Park. He fits our profile for the suspect and would have passed through Breckenridge at the same time as vic three’s murder.”

Baxter looked over the photo and nodded, “Good job, John. Find out as much as you can about him.”

“Yes, sir.” John smiled, nodding.

### 

Damien groaned as he stretched and sat up, the brightness in the room making it difficult to see at first. He needed darker curtains if he was going to sleep in so late all the time. He climbed out of bed and quickly dressed, being careful of his healing tattoos, before snatching his phone and wallet and heading out the door.

The café was ten minutes from his apartment. He parked and headed inside, slapping a smile on as the bell dinged. He took a seat in his usual booth and waited for his special someone to show up.

Pip walked up to him within moments, a big smile on his beautiful face. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Damien smirked, wrapping an arm around Pip’s waist and holding him close, “How are you today?”

“I’m just fine.” Pip chirped, putting a hand on Damien’s shoulder, “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Alright.” He leaned down and kissed Damien’s forehead, “The usual?”

“Yup.”

“Alright. I’ll put our orders in and come join you.” He ruffled his hair before stepping away.

Damien watched him walk with a soft smile. He loved coming and eating with Pip on his break. It was a good way to relax and unwind after a long night.

_“Still no word from police on the Sterling Killer-”_

Damien scoffed at the TV, immediately tuning it out. Of course there was nothing about the Sterling Killer. They’d never find anything, only what he wanted them to. No one was going to find Tubby’s body and he knew exactly how to go about any more killings to hide them well. One he’d thought up recently, Nature, was especially exciting for him. He couldn’t wait to find a use for that one, but he wanted to save it for someone special.

### 

Bebe stared at the couple, watching the way they touched and spoke, their expressions, their movements. She had been for a few days now and she could safely say she didn’t like what she saw. Something was off. Damien was far too perfect. Too sweet and considerate and handsome and charming and understanding. 

Something was very, very wrong here.

She followed Pip to the kitchen, a worried expression on her face. “Can I talk to you?” She spoke, gaining the blonde boy’s attention.

“Of course.” He smiled softly, “What’s wrong?” He grabbed his time sheet, clocking out.

“It’s Damien.” She spoke cautiously, “He’s… Odd.”

“What do you mean? I think he’s just wonderful.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. He’s got you wrapped around his finger. You’re so absorbed in him you’d never see the obvious.”

“And what’s that?”

“Pip, he’s _dangerous_.”

“No, he’s not, really.” Pip chuckled, “He just comes off that way sometimes. He’s really very sweet.”

“Phillip.” She urged, “Cartman’s been missing for days. Ever since you two ran into him at the DVD place. Damien is from Sterling. Someone died in Breckenridge. Don’t you see what this looks like?”

“No.” Pip snapped, becoming defensive, “It’s just a coincidence. He’s a great guy.”

“He’s too perfect, Pip. It’s not normal.”

Pip scoffed and walked past her, “You just don’t know him like I do.”

“Pip-”

It was too late, however, as he stormed out of the kitchen. She followed him out, but stopped and watched him head to the table and take a seat across from Damien, a frown on his pretty features. She watched Damien give him a concerned look and reach across the table, grabbing his hands. Lips moved and though she could not hear the words she knew what was being said.

_“What’s wrong, gorgeous?”_

### 

“Nothing.” Pip sighed, examining their hands. 

“It’s obviously not nothing. Come on, you can talk to me.”

“I don’t want to upset you.”

“It’s not a bother, really. I just wanna see a pretty smile on your lovely face again.”

Pip couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from tugging upward slightly. No, his Damien was not a killer. He was too kind and gentle for something so terrible. He was a lover. “It’s Bebe… She thinks you killed Cartman.”

“…Oh.” His voice was even, “That’s kind of rude.”

“I know.” Pip shook his head some, “She’s got it in her head that you’re the Sterling Killer, I think.”

“She’s just jealous, I bet, that’s all. Ignore her.”

“I will. Just sucks though. She’s one of my few friends.” He sighed, “Maybe she’ll drop it.”

Damien hummed and lifted his hand to press a kiss against his fingers, “If not, you’ve always got me.”

A smile spread across Pip’s lips, “That’s true. I do. You’re pretty amazing.”

“So are you.” He brushed his lips across Pip’s fingers again, “You’re so special to me, Pip.”

The blonde giggled, smiling brightly, “Gosh, you’re so charming.”

“It’s true though.”

Pip swooned. “You’re special to me too, Damien.”

### 

Bebe watched in silent horror as Pip’s entire demeanor brightened. Damien’s charms did wonders to soothe him, and boy was that bastard laying them on thickly. Touching, kissing, caressing, obviously saying everything he knew Pip needed to hear.

God, she hated him.

Damien reached out, cupping Pip’s cheek, and the blonde was quick to close his eyes and nuzzle into the touch. 

Those cold, hate-filled eyes were suddenly trained on her, an icy glare cutting her to the core. It was over in a second and the gaze softened as soon as it was back on the British boy.

She still felt cold though, like he’d implanted ice into her very soul.

### 

“Eric Cartman, age 21, missing for four days. Mother reports that she noticed a dining room chair missing along with her son, assumed it was one of his strange pranks, and failed to report him missing for at least two days, assuming he was coming home soon.” John read, standing before Baxter’s desk. “So, either that’s a crazy coincidence, or our man has moved to South Park.”

Baxter lifted a file. Damien Thorn, age 22. Their prime suspect. Had a heated argument with the Kovaks the day prior to their deaths and had tattoos coinciding with method of death, according to his tattoo artist. He dropped the file and nodded, “Alright. In the morning I’ll get a warrant from the judge and we’ll head to South Park to question him.”

“In the morning?!”

“Yes. It’s too late now. State buildings are closed.”

“Goddamnit!” John yelled, “He’ll probably kill again by then!”

“Look,” Baxter stood, “As far as we can tell he’s only killed one person there. If he moved to the town than he probably won’t want to do too much killing there. I’m sure it’ll be fine to wait another day.” 

“You don’t know that! We should go tonight!”

“John, it’ll take us all damn night to even get there. It would be better to wait, we can round up a group and head down with a warrant so we can actually arrest him.”

“But! But!” John sighed after a moment, knowing it would do him no good. They would have to wait.

### 

It was cold out, as always, especially at this time of night, but Damien merely hugged his jacket a little tighter to himself as he waited. The events earlier in the day played out in his mind. Pip at the café, the things Bebe had said about him, and the kiss.

The last one made him feel oddly warm to think about.

He hadn’t been expecting it in the least. He’d just stepped out of the café, about to bid Pip farewell so he could go get another tattoo, when the blonde had popped the question.

_“Will you kiss me?”_

And of course he’d said yes. Who wouldn’t? Pip was beautiful and, aside from that, he was still gaining his trust.

Their lips had connected and he wasn’t sure if the experience was magical or terrifying. He felt… _something_. He’d never felt _something_ before. He’d had a hundred first kisses and none of them made him feel a damn thing. Only the emptiness he always seemed to feel.

This time though… Warmth, electricity, joy. It was so startling he’d nearly broken the kiss, but thankfully he’d stayed composed. And, of course, Pip had loved it. He’d said so himself. Talked about it being magical and how happy he was that they’d met.

A bunch of mushy bullshit Damien had agreed to, pretended to reciprocate.

Sometimes though it felt like he wasn’t pretending and that was fucking terrifying.

A soft groan drew him from his thoughts. His eyes fell on the blonde in front of him, tied to a chair, body bent over. Eyelids fluttered then opened, a head slowly lifted, looking around in confusion. It was always the same.

Her eyes widened and she began to struggle before falling still when her eyes landed on him.

He kept his expression neutral, uncaring. He stepped forward, closer to her, which caused her to attempt to scream, but he’d prevented that.

Her lips were sewn shut over a wad of cloth in her mouth, preventing her from making loud noises or breathing through her mouth.

“You know.” Damien spoke softly, “I did actually like you. You were nice to Pip. You just had to go and start spouting shit though, didn’t you?” He shook his head, “I can’t have that.”

Bebe moaned in despair and began crying, as expected. 

He’d meant what he said. She was highly tolerable, as far as people went. It had almost saddened him to wait for her after work, knock her out, and drive her out here in her own car. He was certain Pip would be deeply upset come tomorrow and she wasn’t around any longer, but, it was just something he’d have to deal with later.

He couldn’t risk her going to the law with her knowledge.

A malicious grin curled onto his lips, “We shared our first kiss tonight thanks to you. He said it was magical. I’ve got him right where I want him and all you’ve done is fan the flames at your own expense.”

She sobbed and attempted to sniffle, but her nose was stuffy.

He stepped back, crossing his arms, “Just relax. It’ll be over soon enough. You won’t be able to breath out of your nose soon and you’ll suffocate.”

She sobbed much harder this time and attempted to get out of the ropes, but no amount of twisting and pulling was going to save her.

Damien stood by silently, just watching. Her struggling and labored breathing continued for quite some time, but eventually she slowed, body drooping. He could hear her wheezing continue for a few more minutes until it finally fell silent.

The sounds of the forest drowned out his footsteps as he silently left the body, heading back to town to tie up a few more loose ends. Her keys would allow him entry into her home and her car, which he would need to dispose of if he wanted to make her disappear.


	6. Nature

Baxter silently fumed, fingers laced together in front of his face. He couldn’t understand why this was so difficult. No first-timer should be this good, there had to be something they were missing.

Maybe this wasn’t their killer’s first round of victims though.

“I can’t believe this!” John raged, throwing a file down at his desk, “Look, I told you! This girl went missing today, she never came home last night. I’m telling you, we need to get down there and get this guy!”

“Look, I’m as upset as you are, but the judge refused our warrant. We can’t just drive down there and arrest someone without probable cause or a fucking warrant. All we can with our current warrant is search Damien’s previous residence for evidence.”

“That’s bullshit!” John yelled, “There’s no way it’s not him!”

“I know that, but the judge needs more evidence. Everything we have is circumstantial.”

“Ugh!” John snarled, “This is fucking ridiculous!” 

Baxter sighed as his partner stormed out, cursing the whole time. He understood his frustration, but there was no sense in running in, guns blazing, only to be the ones to get in trouble or, worse, be wrong. They needed more evidence and he was sure he could find at least something in Damien’s old apartment.

### 

Damien groaned when his cell phone rang, waking him rather violently thanks to his Korn ringtone. He growled and snatched his off his nightstand, sticking it to his ear, “What??”

_“Damien?”_ Came a meek little voice.

He sighed, “Pip? What is it?”

_“I’m sorry… I woke you up, didn’t I?”_

He wanted to snarl ‘yes!’ but refrained. He could tell by the tone of the blonde’s voice that something was wrong. He sat up, “No, no. What’s wrong, baby?”

_“Bebe didn’t come in today. I called her house and her mom says…”_ He whimpered, _“Her mom says she’s gone.”_

“Gone?”

_“Yeah… She found a letter on her computer. It said she was going to California to be an actress. Can you believe that?”_ He sounded like he was barely holding himself together. _“Why would she do that??”_

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He soothed, “She was a very pretty girl. I bet she’ll do fine there.”

_“But why would she leave like that? Without telling anyone??”_

“Well…” He paused a moment for effect, as though he hadn’t already gone over this moment a hundred times in his head, “Maybe she didn’t want anyone to talk her out of it or wasn’t sure how to say goodbye. You know, a lot of young people get a wild hair to just up and go somewhere. That’s what happened to me and I think I’m doing very well if I do say so myself.” He smiled a bit when he heard a soft giggle on the other end of the line, “I know she wouldn’t want you to worry about her. Just think about how much fun she’s probably having right now. A nice open road all the way to Cali, total freedom, just jamin’ to the radio. Maybe someday we’ll take that same trip together.”

_“Yeah, maybe.”_ He sounded much better. _“Thanks, Damien. I hope you’re right.”_

“I’m sure I am. I bet she’ll call home eventually, so there’s nothing to cry about.”

_“Okay.”_

“Can I come by and see you later?”

_“Of course.”_ He could hear the smile on his lovely face, _“I’d really like to see you.”_

“Awesome. Let me wake up in the shower and get dressed and I’ll be over.”

_“Oh, so you were asleep.”_

“Yeah, yeah. I’m never too tired to talk to you though, gorgeous. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

_“Alright. See you soon.”_

Damien hung up the phone and put it back on his nightstand, face falling. He sighed, pinching his nose in frustration, and finally got out of bed after several moments of debating.

### 

Pip smiled brightly when he saw Damien pull up in front of the café. He immediately went to the door and hardly a second later his boyfriend stepped through and pulled him into a tight, comforting embrace. He hugged him back just as tightly, burying his face in his chest.

“Thank you so much for coming.” Pip spoke, voice muffled by a solid chest.

“You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you.” Damien kissed his hair and loosened his hold, gazing down at him softly, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright.” Pip smiled some, “Much better since I talked to you.”

“I’m glad. Are you off early today?”

“No. I-”

“You should get off early. You’re dealing with a lot.”

“I know… My manager told me I should go home…”

“Then let’s go. We can spend the rest of the afternoon together. You want to?”

“Okay.” The blonde smiled, nodding, “I’ll go let her know I’m clocking out early. I think she was tired of seeing me mope around anyway.” He pecked his boyfriend on the cheek and quickly went to the back. He clocked out, let Maria know, and removed his apron before returning to Damien’s side. “Alright, we can go.”

They headed out together, hand in hand, and stopped by the car. Pip made to get in, but Damien stopped him.

“Wait.”

“What?”

The taller male pulled him against him and pressed their lips together in a deep, passionate kiss. Pip wrapped his arms around Damien’s neck, holding him tightly as they kissed.

They parted after several moments and Damien was smiling softly down at him, “I figured we both needed that.”

Pip giggled and nodded, “Yeah, I would say so.”

“You want to go to my place and watch Iron Man 3?”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

### 

John sped down the highway, hands tight on the steering wheel. It was dark out, he’d been driving the entire day, but now he was nearing his destination. “Welcome to South Park” a sign read, making him smile.

Finally. It would all be over soon.

The address was burned into his mind. He hardly slowed down as he searched for the street, then the apartment complex, then the unit number. He stopped in the parking lot and stepped out of his car, gun at the ready. This would end tonight.

He stepped up to the apartment and knocked loudly, “Police! Open up!” When he received no reply after several seconds he stepped back and readied himself to kick the door in. A cough behind him made him stop and whirl around, gun up.

A dark haired man quirked an eyebrow at him, “Can I help you, officer?”

“Damien Thorn, you are under arrest!” John announced, “Get down on the ground!”

Damien frowned, “I know my rights. What am I being arrested for?”

“The murders of-”

“Yeah, okay. You got proof I did it?” 

John faltered, which made Damien grin.

“You don’t. Do you even have a warrant to be here?”

“Get down on the ground!” John yelled again, but Damien didn’t budge.

“Dude, don’t cop an attitude with me. You can’t arrest me without probable cause. You can throw some handcuffs on me and we can wrestle, but then you’ll be in deep shit as soon as we get to the station. You really wanna go through with that?”

John hesitated. Damien was right, of course. He’d be in deep shit for this if he was wrong.

“Look.” Damien sighed, bringing his hand to his head to run it through his hair, “It’s been a really long day. I just walked my boyfriend home, he’s upset because his friend left town last night, and-”

“You mean Bebe, correct?” John interrupted, “We have reason to believe she was killed.”

“Why?” Damien scrunched his nose, “She’s been talking about going to California forever. She left a note on her computer and everything. Her fucking car is gone for Christ’s sake.”

John’s eyes widened. Seriously? He hadn’t heard that part. “What about Eric?”

“Cartman? Ugh, _that_ guy.” Damien rolled his eyes, “He made an enemy of literally everyone. There’s a hundred different theories about what happened to him. Maybe he finally pissed off the wrong person and got his dumbass killed, maybe he ran off just to be a shit, or maybe he’s faking it for attention. Apparently, this isn’t anything new with him.”

John lowered his gun, feeling foolish. He’d been too wrapped up in this case to actually look at the big picture, and now he was paying for it.

“Hey.” Damien spoke up, an empathetic smile on his face, “You’re the cop from the warehouse in Sterling, right? I get it. This whole case must be really stressful for you. I totally understand how I’d look guilty, since I left town and all. You wanna crash at my place for the night? You can’t exactly drive back tonight.”

 

“No, I can’t do that.” John shook his head, “You’re still a suspect.” Though Damien’s demeanor helped put him at ease, he still needed to be vigilant. 

“Nah, yeah, I totally get it, bro. Let me at least pay for a night’s stay in a hotel or something though. I actually feel really bad about this whole thing.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault.”

“Still, come on. There’s a hotel across town that’s really nice for the price.”

John sighed and nodded after a few moments, “Okay, yeah. I’d appreciate that. I sort of left my cards back in Sterling.”

“Awesome.” Damien smiled, “Wanna walk or do I get to catch a ride in your awesome police cruiser?”

“You can catch a ride.”

“Sweeeeeeeet.” Damien chuckled, “Oh, but, I gotta get my credit card right quick, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, sure.” John nodded, stepping out of the way while Damien unlocked the door.

“You want a soda or anything?” The younger man asked as he opened the door, “I got Fanta and Pepsi.”

“Sure. A Pepsi would be great.” He nodded.

“Cool. Be back.” Damien disappeared into the house and John turned around, sighing softly. He felt so foolish. Part of him wanted to believe he’d been doing good police work and that maybe it was still Damien, but that just seemed so unlikely. Damien was a very friendly and understanding guy. It just wouldn’t make sense for him to be a killer. He hardly looked capable of hurting a fly.

“Hey!” Damien called from the doorway.

John turned around and barely caught sight of the blur of a bat before his world went dark.

### 

Damien was furious. How dare this man try to come into his home and take him by force?? He had half a mind to just beat him to death, but, that just wouldn’t do. No, he’d let nature run its course instead.

He leaned against a tree, a bucket on the ground at his feet. A few feet from him was John, nude, sitting on the ground, and tied firmly to a large tree. The forest around them was alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures.

John groaned and began to wake, lolling his head and moving his feet.

Damien watched silently, waiting for that blissful moment when his victim would realize how much shit they were in.

John lifted his head and looked around, a groan of despair rising from him moments later. He caught sight of Damien and a pain-filled expression made its way onto his face. “God, it really was you…”

“Psychopaths are excellent actors. You shouldn’t have let your guard down, you stupid piece of shit. Actually, you shouldn’t have even fucking come down here in the first place!” He snarled.

“Please…” John begged. They always begged. It never helped, just fueled his anger. “Please, I have a family…”

“Me too. His name is Phillip and he _adores_ me.” He walked over to John and grabbed his hair roughly, “And you nearly fucked it up for me tonight. Name one good reason why I should let you live.”

“I… My wife… She’s pregnant with our first child.”

“Really? Well, I have half a mind to drive to Sterling tonight and rip your fucking child right out of your wife’s belly.” He slammed his head against the tree, “You should have just stayed home with your fucking family you goddamn fool!” He stepped back, a cruel grin spreading across his face, “Now you’re going to end up like her.” He nodded to his right.

A few yards away sat Bebe, eyes empty, forever staring at the ground, flies already making a home in her. John groaned again and began struggling, just like they always did.

“You were right. I killed her. Cartman too. And now, you.” He grabbed the bucket and dumped the contents over John’s head. Chunks of cold meat fell out, coating him in blood. Damien tossed the bucket aside and smirked, “Enjoy.”

“W-what the fuck?!” John gasped, body shaking as the cold of the contents and the snow around them caught up with him.

“You know, technically, I haven’t really killed anyone in this town. Cartman was crushed to death and Bebe suffocated. You’ll likely be either eaten alive by wild animals or succumb to the cold.”

“That’s still murder you son of a bitch!” 

Damien merely shrugged. He turned away and began his trek back down the mountain, “Have a good night, officer.”

“No!!!” John screamed, “No!! You can’t do this!!! Please!! _God, please, someone help me!!!”_

His screams faded as Damien put distance between them. By the time he cleared the forest all he could hear was the silence of the snowy world around him.


	7. Electricity

_“This is John. Leave a message at the tone and I’ll get back to you.”_

Baxter snarled and hung up the phone, deciding that six tries with no answer was probably enough. He dialed the home phone next and within minutes a young woman answered tiredly.

_“Hello?”_

“Lily, it’s Bax. Is John home?”

_“No… I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I thought he was working a case with you?”_

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. That’s right. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

_“Sure, okay. Tell John to come home soon. I’m supposed to deliver next week and I’d really like to see him sometime before then. He’s supposed to go with me.”_

“Right, I’ll let him know. Sorry to bug you.”

_“It’s fine. Have a nice day, Baxter.”_

“You too, Lily. Goodbye.” He hung up the phone with a sigh. No sense in worrying her. She might go into labor early or something.

He rocked a bit in his chair, staring up at the ceiling in silence. He already suspected he knew what had happened, though he didn’t want to think about it. It was entirely possible, however, that John had gone running off to South Park to confront their suspect and gotten himself killed.

He groaned, knowing what he needed to do, and forced himself to stand.

Nothing left to do but go after him.

### 

Damien stared at their hands, neutral expression ever present. The noise of the drill made it tough for him to hear the TV, which was what Pip was paying attention to. He used the distraction to silently examine his boyfriend. He gazed at their hands, the way their fingers fit so well together, focused on the feeling of Pip’s soft skin touching his own, how small and delicate the appendage felt in his own much rougher one. His eyes trailed upward, running over his neck and up to his face.

Such a nice face. Soft cheeks, a smooth jaw line, faint freckles, big eyes, plump lips, long lashes, neat eyebrows, a cute nose. He found himself transfixed, unable to look away.

After a moment their eyes met. Pip smiled shyly, “What’re you staring at?”

“You.” Damien replied bluntly.

“Well, yes, but why?”

“Because you’re so damn beautiful.” He confessed, “It’s hard to look away.”

“Oh!” Pip’s face tinted pink and he giggled, “You’re such a charmer.”

Damien hummed, not bothering to reply. He continued staring, counting freckles, memorizing the perfect face.

Finally, the buzzing ceased.

“All done.” The artist announced.

“How does it look?” Damien asked Pip, nodding toward his back.

Pip stepped around him to look and he heard him laugh, a pleasant sound, “It looks great!” He put his hand on Damien’s shoulder, “You’re so tough.”

“Sure I am. I got you here with me.”

“Awww.” Pip giggled.

Too cute.

The artist held up a mirror, allowing Damien to examine for himself.

The Japanese kanji for Nature was inked into his back, right below Air, then Ground, then Water, then Fire, then Ice. His list was nearly complete. “Looks good.” He let the man patch it up before climbing off the chair and carefully putting his shirt on. He paid him what he owed, plus some tip, and headed out with Pip in tow.

They stepped into the warm sunlight. Phillip smiled up at him, squeezing his hand gently, “Where to now?”

Damien stared, becoming lost in those big blue eyes. It was true what he’d said just days before. Pip really was something special. He made him feel warm and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Uh oh.” He muttered softly, still staring.

“What’s wrong?” Pip asked, quickly becoming concerned.

The question startled Damien some. He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me.” Pip urged gently, “You’ve been acting funny since yesterday. You hardly paid attention to Iron Man at all. You’ve just been staring at me for days… Ever since we kissed… Was it bad for you or something?”

“No, not at all.”

“What then? Was it something I said?”

“No.”

“Then _what_??” Pip urged, “We were having a great conversation just the other day and now you can hardly talk… What did I do?”

Damien stared at him a moment before responding, “Why do you immediately assume it’s you and not me?”

The question obviously caught the boy off guard. “Well… I don’t know. It must be me, right? I must have said or done something to make you clam up like this.”

“Fine. Yes, it was the kiss.”

“See! I knew it! Was it that bad??” God, he looked so hurt. Damien refrained from pulling him into a hug just yet.

“No, it was amazing.”

“Oh…” A small, almost sad smile graced his lips, “So I literally left you speechless then?”

Laughter burst from Damien before he could stop it. He nodded, squeezing Pip’s hand, and calmed himself quickly, “Yes, I would say so. Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

Damien faltered, feeling oddly unsure of himself, a very foreign sensation. “I felt something when we kissed and I’ve never felt something before. I guess it sort of scared me a little.”

“Oh…” Pip spoke solemnly, “So, you felt something bad?”

“No, I felt something amazing.”

“Then what’s to be scared of?”

“… I don’t know.”

There was a heavy silence between them, despite the noise of the street. Damien could practically see the joy, the trust, being drained from the other, and _God_ did it hurt him. “May I kiss you?” He asked suddenly, trying to snatch it back.

Pip nodded silently, though he clearly didn’t seem all that interested.

Damien cupped his face and caught his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. That feeling welled inside him again, making him feel nearly desperate. He hugged Pip’s body tightly against his own, trying to push his fears and doubts away. He loved this feeling, he decided. Part of him craved it like a starving animal. He felt Pip hug him back, return the kiss just as desperately, and it only added fuel to the fire burning inside him.

They parted after several intense moments and simply held one another. 

Pip smiled softly, “That was wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful.” The comment earned him a giggle.

“Come on.” The blonde stepped out of the embrace and grabbed both his hands, leading him gently, “We should get lunch.”

Damien returned the smile and nodded, “That sounds fantastic.”

### 

Damien was staring again. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Since the kiss, in fact. Those dark eyes were almost constantly on him now, searching his face, his body, as though transfixed, and always utterly silent. Pip wasn’t sure if he liked the attention or it made him uncomfortable. He could never tell what Damien was thinking. 

He turned to him and their eyes met, but Damien’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re missing the show.” He smiled some, “It’s hard to watch when you’re staring at _me_.”

“Maybe I like watching you more.”

A soft giggle escaped the blonde, which he tried to cover with a cough, attempting to remain serious about this. “Well, maybe I’d like it if you’d watch the show with me.”

Damien stared at him a moment before turning his head and facing the TV once more. He felt him hug him closer and rest his cheek on top of his head, which made the blonde smile softly. He relaxed more against his boyfriend and once again paid attention to the TV, where Supernatural was playing. He really loved coming to Damien’s apartment and just cuddling on the couch while watching something. 

But…

Did Damien like it too?

God, what if he was getting frustrated with him or something? What if he was expecting more from this relationship, like sex or at least making-out often?

Pip bit his lip and a soft whimper escaped him, worry eating at his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Damien’s eyes were on him again, hardly missing a beat.

“Nothing.” Pip replied a little too quickly.

“Tell me.”

Pip whined softly and nodded toward the TV, “I’m just worried about Dean, that’s all.” There was a brief silence in which only the TV could be heard in the room, but soon that ceased as well, the image going still. The blonde looked up at his boyfriend, who was holding the remote and staring down at him blankly, waiting.

A soft, anxiety-filled sigh escaped the younger male. It seemed he wasn’t going to get out of this. How did Damien always see right through him? “Are you… Are you upset that we don’t… Have sex?”

Damien frowned heavily, looking borderline angry, “Of course not. Why on earth would I be?”

“I don’t know…” The Brit half-shrugged, “You just seem like the sort of guy who’d be used to getting sex a lot so-” 

He was cut off when Damien was suddenly gripping his chin, holding his head steady. There was anger in his eyes as he spoke, “Don’t. Ever. Say that. Again.” His dangerous demeanor was gone in an instant as he pulled the blonde into a tight hug, nuzzling his temple, “You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know that? Quit assuming that things are somehow your fault. They never are. You’re perfect.”

Though his initial actions had scared Pip, the Brit calmed at his soothing words and smiled softly, “That’s really sweet of you to say… _You’re_ the perfect one.” He slipped his arms around his boyfriend’s back, being careful of the tattoos, and hugged him gently.

“Well, if we’re both perfect then that makes us the perfect couple, doesn’t it?” Damien purred, grinning.

Pip giggled, smiling brightly, “I suppose it does!”

There was another short pause. Damien lifted one hand to toy with blonde hair, the other pulling his boyfriend tighter against him. He spoke softly, voice just above a whisper, “If I tell you something, will you promise not to get mad?”

“I promise.” Pip nodded, voice just as soft.

Damien’s breath brushed his ear as he whispered, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Pip gasped, his heart soaring, pulling him right up with it onto Cloud 9. He smiled, the butterflies in his stomach going into a frenzy. “I think I’m falling in love with you too!” He whispered excitedly, clinging to his boyfriend.

Damien let out a relieved sigh, “I’m so happy to hear that.” He kissed his forehead, petting his hair.

Phillip happily nuzzled his neck, pressing himself as close to him as possible. He felt safe, protected, here against his boyfriend’s firm chest, his strong arms around him in a tight but gentle embrace. He couldn’t possibly express his sheer joy, utter elation, pure happiness. His fears of being alone were pushed out of his mind by the swell of emotions that filled him. Finally, he’d found someone who not only seemed capable of actually loving him, but was happy with him just the way he was.

### 

Baxter idled outside the apartment complex, watching. Lights were on, meaning he’d need to wait for a while before he could make his move. Normally, he’d simply wait until the morning and just request an invite into the apartment to chat, but that only worked with criminals who didn’t suspect you were on to them. He was positive that, assuming Damien was his man, he was already very aware that they were on to him.

He was more than a little surprised when the door opened and two people stepped out; Damien and a blonde… girl? boy? Hard to say.

Damien locked the door behind them and they headed down the steps together, hand-in-hand, chatting the whole way. They climbed into a car together and within a few seconds were pulling out of the parking lot.

Baxter followed at a safe distance, keeping his lights off. Was blondie Damien’s next unsuspecting victim? He couldn’t let that happen. This ended tonight.

It was a straight shot to another apartment complex several blocks away. The duo parked and climbed out, walking hand-in-hand to apartment 105.

Baxter pulled to the side of the road and killed his engine as he waited.

The blonde unlocked the door then turned around, a smile on his/her lips. They hugged, held each other a few moments, then kissed. Hugged, kissed, hugged, talked. They seemed unwilling to part, despite the late hour. Eventually, with one final kiss, they let go. The blonde entered the apartment, casting Damien a small wave and a final word, which Damien returned, before closing the door.

Damien waited a moment before stepping away, heading back to his car.

Well, that was more than a little surprising.

Baxter started his engine as soon as he saw Damien’s car spring to life. He waited until the suspect was on the road before once again following him. They returned to Damien’s apartment, which the man was quick to disappear into. Baxter once again killed his engine and waited.

The lights in the main room went off. He climbed out of his car, gun at the ready, and quietly walked around the back to a bedroom window. The light was on in the bedroom and he could hear the muffled noise of the shower running. He tested the window and wasn’t too surprised to find it unlocked. Most people from small towns had a bad habit of ignoring the locks on their windows.

He slowly and carefully opened it, then peeked in. The room was empty and the bathroom door was mostly shut. He climbed in with a practiced ease and cautiously stood, gun in his hand.

Alright… He should probably phone the local authorities first. It was smarter to use a landline rather than a cell since it was easier to pinpoint a location that way. He could check the main rooms for one and unlock the door while he was there.

Silently, he stepped out into the hall, eyes on the living room, only to be met with a sudden, blunt pain in his head and then darkness.

Though it felt like he woke again within seconds, in reality he’d guess it had to have been at least several minutes, if not longer. It was still dark, but his head throbbed and his body felt heavy, so he was certain he must have been awake. His arms and legs seemed to be tied together with some sort of thick rope. He was lying on his side and his body seemed to sway of its own accord. Likely in the trunk of a car.

Probably Damien’s car.

Shit, how could he have been so damn careless? He wouldn’t have been shocked in the least if the shower was just a ruse to make him feel safer and let his guard down. Damien had probably been aware that he was being followed the whole fucking time.

Fuck!

He wished he knew how long he’d been out or at least how long they’d been driving, then maybe he could take an educated guess as to his current location. How was he supposed to get out of this? What if Damien just drove the fucking thing into a lake or off a cliff?? He didn’t stand a damn chance!

The vehicle stopped, making Baxter’s heart race. The engine was shut off and a car door slammed moments later. He readied himself to throw his body against his attacker once the trunk was opened.

Clicking of the lock. As soon as the trunk swung open he shoved himself with as much force as he could muster while being bound.

He hit the ground with a painful thud and groaned softly. He looked up and saw Damien standing by the side of the car, rather than at the back.

The killer smirked, “You must think I’m some kind of fucking idiot.” He lifted a bat and took two large steps toward Baxter. The black man had zero time to react before it was brought down on his head once more.

### 

The old jailhouse was small, empty, and very much abandoned. Damien had spotted it just before Breckenridge the week before and of course had to stop and scope it out.

It was perfect.

The detective’s body was bolted into the electric chair, just like he’d envisioned having his victim. The helmet was strapped on tightly and now it was merely a matter of time before the detective, Baxter as his badge had said, would wake and they could finally finish this.

It better be finished anyway. He was getting tired of these late nights out.

A smirk graced his lips when Baxter slowly woke and took in his surroundings. Though the man appeared calm, he was certain he was losing his mind on the inside.

“Good evening, detective.” Damien spoke, “Nice of you to join me.”

“Where are we?” Baxter asked, voice stern.

“In an old jail north of Breckenridge. Don’t worry, the electricity is still working. I already checked.”

“Fuck…” Baxter muttered, testing his restraints. They held, of course.

Damien’s demeanor grew more angry, “You really didn’t fucking think I’d notice you following me? You would’ve had better luck breaking into my apartment while I wasn’t there, dipshit.”

“I thought you were going to kill that blonde. I had to follow, just in case.”

“Phillip? No, not yet. I have bigger plans for him. Plans that sure as shit don’t involve _you_.” 

“Like what?”

“Like none of your goddamn business!” Damien spat, “You nearly fucked me over tonight! You think I’m going to play nice after that?!”

“Okay, okay.” The man backed down, “Just… Answer me a few questions before I…”

“Die?” Damien smirked again, “Sure, let’s hear ‘em.”

“Fine. How many have you killed?”

“Counting you? Seven.”

“Who? Why?”

“Well…” Damien cocked his head slightly in thought, “I killed the father and daughter because they tried to fuck me over on my lease. Martin was rude to me so of course he had to go. Eric Cartman was mean to my boyfriend, so I buried him alive. Bebe was catching on so I suffocated her. Your cop buddy showed up on my door waving his gun, but I managed to talk him down and beat him over the head just like I did you. I tied him to a tree in the mountains and let nature do the work for me.”

“You sick fuck…” Baxter hissed, glaring.

“Hey, don’t _cop_ an attitude on me.” Damien grinned, “I used line that on your cop buddy too, but I don’t think he caught it.”

“How many more have you killed?”

Damien scoffed, irritated at having been ignored. “I just told you. Seven.”

“No. You’re too _good_ at this. There _has_ to be more.”

Another cruel smirk spread over Damien’s lips, “Detective, please. I’ve never killed anyone before this. My grandparents, parents, little sibling, girlfriends, boyfriends… Those were all terrible accidents. I had so much to go through when I was younger. Poor, sweet, innocent little Damien couldn’t hurt a fly, but tragedy surrounded him. He stayed strong through it all though. So noble, so courageous. They ought to make a fucking movie out of my struggles.”

“You fucking bastard!” Baxter yelled, “How many innocents have you killed?!”

“Counting you…” Damien paused, mentally counting, “Twenty… nine.”

Baxter stared at him, horror written all over his face, “My God…”

Damien smirked, “Yup. Pip’s going to be number 30.” He reached up, grabbing the switch to the chair, “Goodbye, detective.”

“No! Wait!”

He ignored his pleas and threw the switch. The man’s body jolted and shook, his eyes rolling back into his head. Damien watched him in fascination, wondering how much it hurt, if at all. After several minutes of merely staring at the wiggling body, he shut the switch off, making it fall still.

That was that.

Damien silently left the scene, knowing full well the huge drain in power would draw someone out here within a few days to discover the body. He headed out to his car and climbed in, a heavy sigh escaping him. Oh, how he’d love to go home and get some sleep, but no. He had a long drive ahead then a car to dispose of.

It was going to be a long night.


	8. Love

Damien could still recall his first time like it was yesterday. Her name was Rachel and she was the prettiest girl in middle school. As the most attractive male, it was only common sense that he get together with her. That was just how it was meant to be.

Perfect. He’d always been called perfect. Perfect looks, perfect voice, perfect build, perfect personality. Classmates _adored_ him and he loved it. They were so easy to manipulate. One word and they were like putty in his hands. 

Naturally, about that same time that he and Rachel got together, certain urges were beginning to surface among himself and his peers. So, as to be expected, just a few weeks into dating Rachel they ended up in his bedroom, clothes on the floor and condom in hand.

Rachel had been “around the block” a few times with a few different boys, so she knew far more about what she was doing than Damien did. That hadn’t been intimidating though, as he’d always been very confident. He had no reason not to be. He was perfect in every way, so why wouldn’t he be in bed?

He barely lasted twenty seconds.

The bitch had fucking _laughed_ at him. Called him a “two-pump chump” and said she was going to tell everyone how Mr. Perfect wasn’t so damn perfect after all.

He could still recall the feel of wrapping his hands around her neck, squeezing tightly, her body twisting and writhing in an attempt to free herself, the way it fell still as life slowly left her. He remembered looking her in the eye in her final moments, the way the light faded away and was replaced by nothingness.

Burning his grandparent’s house down years earlier with them inside was _nothing_ compared to taking a life with his own hands. Even drowning his baby brother in his crib using his own bottle wasn’t this exhilarating. Literally a breath-taking experience. He craved it and urged for it far more than he did sex. Sex was nothing, merely a means to get his victims into his home.

He buried her out back where he’d killed several squirrels the previous week, putting their tiny bodies a few feet above hers under the ground. The police asked questions, of course, but he merely sobbed, said she never made it over that day, and begged them to find her. He was just so _in love_ , how could he possibly live without her???

He’d faked a frown for weeks while silently looking for his next victim. He needed another and, boy, were they easy to come by. Girls threw themselves at his feet, offering their condolences and company in his time of need. He had to be patient though. He might get caught killing them so close together.

Lisa was his next victim, grade 8. Another attempt at intercourse was made, only to have it blow up in his face. Or, really, hers. She was pissed of course. 

_“Are you serious?! I barely even touched you!”_

His hands were around her throat in a second, pressing her into the bed with silent fury. He watched the light fade from her eyes and was again brought to an amazing high that no orgasm could compare to.

Again, he’d buried her out back, cried when the police showed, faked a frown at school. The usual.

Macie was his next, grade 9, then Chad in grade 10. Chad had been a bit of a surprise for him. He wasn’t aware he liked boys until the shorter male had made a pass at him in class. There was a period of several weeks that they talked and flirted that Damien thought maybe, _maybe_ , he’d be better with this one. Maybe it was just girls he had problems with. Maybe this one would work out.

It hadn’t.

Chad had laughed and Damien squeezed his throat, but he’d forgotten to take into consideration the fact that Chad was male and, therefore, much stronger than his previous victims. He’d nearly lost to him, but Chad liked wearing scarves and that proved to be his downfall. Damien had grabbed it off the bed and wrapped it tightly around his neck, pulling each end with everything he had.

Chad, too, died at his hand, just like others before him and many after.

Mary was after that, then Jacob, both he decided against formally dating and merely invited them over in secret for a quick romp. Neither left alive.

After turning eighteen he made quick work of his parents, a truly tragic car accident involving worn brake lines, and took off after collecting their life-insurance money. He moved often afterwards, meeting up with someone in a different town and inviting them into his hotel. He learned quickly to not even bother finishing before he began killing, it was much more fun to start choking them while in the middle of the act, finishing just as they moved into the afterlife.

Five more people met their end like this within the period of a year, another 6 after that. He finally calmed some around the age of twenty, but the blood-lust was constantly there, waiting.

Sometimes, it flared.

He hadn’t killed anyone in quite some time, but sometimes he’d try.

With Pip.

His need would build and he’d suddenly go at the blonde, ready to fucking murder him, when just like that it would dissipate and he’d just stop and stare at him. Then a new urge would overcome him and he’d pull him into a tight hug. 

It only took three times before Pip stopped flinching whenever he did it. Now, he just looked at him and patiently waited for the hug, like he fully believed love was what Damien had been seeking by the action.

He wasn’t entirely wrong.

It was hard to believe that it had been over eight months since he’d moved to South Park and met Phillip Pirrup. So much had happened, it was like it all went by in the blink of an eye. 

Pip had moved out of his old apartment and the two moved out of town together.

_Way_ out of town together.

The little town of Sharon, Massachusetts, to be exact. A nice place. Damien had been the one to choose it based almost solely on the fact that it was incredibly far from Colorado and was still a bit of a country area.

Pip got a job the court house, oddly enough. He didn’t have a degree in anything, but they were short staffed and he was ridiculously good at sorting things easily and logically, so they happily dragged him in and put him to work. 

Damien helped out around a tattoo parlor on weekends and sometimes did odd jobs around town for people. He didn’t really bother finding a real job yet since he still had plenty of money left over from his parents’ and grandparents’ life insurance.

They had a nice little apartment together. Two bedrooms, but one was used mostly for storage since they shared a bed. He never in a million years thought he’d be living like this.

With a husband.

Damien looked down at the simple silver band on his ring finger. He had a habit of gently twisting it around his finger when he had nothing better to do, like now. Nothing good was on TV and Pip wasn’t out of the shower yet. Nothing to do but sit on the couch, staring at and twisting the little silver band, wondering how life had led him here.

Was he happy here? Or had he just gone through the motions that were expected of him?

The proposal hadn’t been fancy, he’d just sort of… Done it. Literally just said “marry me” while they were cooking together the previous month. They’d bought rings, went to the courthouse, signed some papers, and that was that.

He looked up when he noticed movement. Pip was out of the shower and standing just inside the living room, dressed only in one of Damien’s shirts and boxers.

The attire drove him wild with desire, but he never said anything about it. They had yet to have sex and part of him wanted it to stay that way. He was certain he’d end up killing the blonde if their relationship took a physical turn, and in all honesty he wasn’t sure he wanted him dead.

Yet.

The blonde smiled shyly at him and walked over, “Hey, you.”

“Hey, you.” Damien repeated, reaching out to draw the younger man into his lap, “Enjoy your shower?” He hugged him close, basking in his warmth.

“Yes.” Pip nodded, happily curling up in his lap, “A nice shower after a long day is always so relaxing.”

Damien merely hummed in response, placing little kisses against his husband’s neck. 

“Hey…” Pip spoke up after a moment, voice shy and hesitant, “I wanna talk to you about something.”

“What?” Damien asked, ceasing his actions. He stared up at Pip with interest, waiting.

“Well…” A cute blush spread across his cheeks and neck, “I… bought some things at the store today for us and I was just wondering if…” He bit his lip, which gained Damien’s full attention, “I was wondering if maybe we could… You know…”

“Make love.” Damien finished for him, purposefully using that term over ‘have sex.’

Pip nodded, turning redder, “Yes.”

_No._

As much as he wanted to decline, he couldn’t deny that he was very, _very_ interested. He _wanted_ to shove his dick up Pip’s tight little hole, no matter how brief it would end up being. What he _didn’t_ want was the blonde laughing at him. He’d kill him for sure if he laughed, and they always did.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He said simply, hoping Pip would fear the pain and back down.

He didn’t.

The blonde smiled and shook his head, “You won’t! I’ve been practicing in the shower with my fingers.”

The words seemed to go straight to his groin, making the area throb with desire. He couldn’t possibly say no now.

He stood swiftly, lifting Pip with practiced ease, making the blonde yelp in surprise. He threw his arms around his neck and chuckled, “Sounds like a yes, then.”

“Hell yes.” Damien smirked, but he wasn’t feeling so confident on the inside. His ego couldn’t take being laughed at. He’d kill the blonde for sure, but he had no good reason to say no. He’d already said no half a dozen times by now and he certainly couldn’t lie about being asexual, not when he popped a boner almost anytime they spooned. There was no way Pip would believe that, he’d just take it as Damien not finding him sexually attractive enough, which just wasn’t true.

Pip was so fucking sexy.

He dropped the blonde on the bed and crawled on top of him, smirking, “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“You tell me almost constantly.” Pip giggled, smiling brightly.

“Well, that’s not quite enough.” Damien purred, nuzzling him, “I love you so damn much.” He couldn’t tell anymore if he was lying or not.

“I love you too.” Pip wrapped his arms around him and pulled him down, “So very, very much.”

Damien sealed their lips together in a heated kiss, slipping his hands under Pip’s night shirt. His skin felt smooth and soft underneath his fingertips. He toyed with his nipples using his thumbs and was pleased when he felt Pip arch his back slightly and groan into the kiss. He broke the kiss and was quick to tug the shirt over his husband’s head, tossing it aside.

Pip giggled shyly and for the first time Damien noticed that when he blushed it extended to his chest too. He couldn’t help but place a kiss right in the middle and give Pip’s sides a gentle squeeze.

“Aren’t you going to take off your shirt too?” The blonde whined a bit, puffing out his bottom lip in a cute pout.

“Alright, alright.” Damien grinned softly and sat up so he could tug his shirt off and throw it to the ground. He placed a quick kiss on Phillips jaw, “You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?”

“I didn’t even do anything!” His skin turned redder, but there was a bright smile on his face.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re always sexy to me.”

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” Pip joked, giggling.

“That’s like trying to compare a rock to a diamond. You outshine me any day.”

“Awww…” The blonde practically melted. He threw his arms around Damien’s torso and hugged him tightly, rubbing his hand across the tattooed flesh, “You’re too much sometimes, I swear.”

“You like it though.” Damien protested, running his fingers through Pip’s hair.

“Yeeeaahh…” A soft giggle escaped the younger man. He let go of his partner and smiled up at him, only to be pushed down onto the bed a moment later.

Damien smirked at him and made quick work of his boxers, leaving him fully exposed. Pip whined again, but before he could protest the uneven lack of clothes Damien worked his own boxers off and tossed them away as well, leaving them both in the nude. Both men were erect, bodies completely at the ready for what was to come.

“Oh, my.” Pip touched his mouth in a display of shyness, “I can see why you were worried about hurting me.”

“You want to stop?” 

“No.” The blonde reached up and grabbed Damien’s hands, pulling them down to hold against his chest, “I want you inside me… I wanna make love.”

“Alright.” Damien leaned down and caught his lips in a gentle kiss. He rested their foreheads together after breaking it, “Did you say you bought something at the store for us?”

Pip nodded toward the table, where a box of condoms and bottle of lubricant were resting. Damien snatched them up and opened the box with little difficulty.

“I wasn’t sure what to get, so I just got an expensive brand variety pack and the fancy looking lubricant… Um, those will fit you, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Damien chuckled, “I’m not _that_ big and these things are designed to stretch.”

“If you say so….”

The dominant male scoffed and said nothing more about it. He set the box aside for later and grabbed the lube instead, pouring a hefty glob onto his fingers. “Relax, alright?” He instructed as he pressed his fingers against Pip’s entrance.

The blonde gasped, twitching away from the cold gel, then immediately apologized and settled back down. 

Damien watched him carefully as he slowly inserted one finger, drawing a small grunt from the smaller male. “That hurt?”

“No, not really. Just kind of startling, is all…” Pip sighed softly, hips moving just slightly as Damien thrust his finger.

A second was added soon enough, making the blonde cringe slightly. Damien moved his fingers slowly, watching Pip’s face with interest. He worked his fingers carefully, scissoring them, rubbing the muscles to encourage them to loosen. By the time he added the third it was apparent that his lover was thoroughly enjoying himself. Damien pressed his fingers deep inside, drawing a low moan from the recipient. “You like that?” He smirked, working them in little circles inside.

“Yes…” Pip groaned softly.

“Mm, you like it deep, don’t you?” He could use that to his advantage.

“Yes…!” Pip groaned loudly, biting his lip.

God, he fucking _loved_ the lip-biting.

He slipped his fingers out and snatched the box of condoms beside them, “Just give me one sec.” He grabbed up a packet at random, some sort of tropical nonsense apparently, and tore it open. He very carefully slipped it on and was pleased to find that it fit fine, if not just a bit snug. Was making the rubber red really necessary though? It made his dick look like a fucking popsicle. Fucking ridiculous. 

He heard Pip giggle and gave him a knowing look, pointing to his dick, “Popsicle, right?”

“Yes!” Pip laughed, “Sorry.”

“No, no. It’s pretty funny. Wanna lick it?” He smirked, thrusting his hips slightly. Even if he wasn’t feeling very confident right now he could easily fake it.

“No, I’m good.” Pip shook his head, “I’m doubtful about how good that condom tastes.”

“You and me both.” He grabbed the bottle of lube and poured another large amount into his hand. He gripped the head of his cock in a loose grip and ran his hand up and down, coating it with lubricant.

Pip’s legs were spread wide for him and the boy was waiting nervously, lip once again between his teeth.

Damien positioned himself at his entrance and prodded it teasingly, earning a little mewl. He smirked at the sound and decided it was time to stop torturing.

This wasn’t smart.

He slipped the head inside and groaned softly at the tightness. Shit, there was no way he was going to last long like this.

Pip whimpered and cringed as he was filled.

“You okay?” Damien asked, rubbing his hips gently.

“Yeah. Hurts a little but it’s not awful.”

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed the blonde’s forehead as he gently slid deeper, burying himself completely inside the tight, willing hole.

Pip groaned loudly and gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, “You’re so deep…”

“Feel good?” Damien purred, rocking himself gently. It took all his concentration not to finish right then and there.

“So good…”

“I’m glad.” He grabbed Pip’s cock and began stroking as he gently rocked his hips. 

The blonde moaned loudly, arching his back. He gripped the sheets underneath him tightly, vocalizing his appreciation. 

The urge to wrap his hands around Pip’s throat was almost overwhelming. This change in the norm was a difficult adjustment. Old habits die hard, as they said. He found himself pressing his left hand against Pip’s neck and giving a gentle squeeze, experimenting. The blonde leaned into the touch, no sign of any fear. He seemed far more interested in what Damien’s _other_ hand was doing.

Damien stroked faster, silently willing Pip to cum before him. If he could just hold out until the blonde was finished then maybe it wouldn’t be so fucking humiliating. He slowly slid out, drawing a loud moan from Pip, then back in, pressing his hips firmly against Pip’s butt to push himself inside as deep as possible.

“Oooh my Gooood…!” Pip groaned, pulling at the sheets. 

The sight and sounds only made things worse for Damien. He growled softly and began thrusting roughly, hoping to force orgasm from his partner. 

The blonde gasped and began moaning loudly with pleasure. Words of praise flew from his lips as he was pelted by the impressive piece of meat.

Damien’s hand pressed harder against Pip’s throat, finally getting his attention. The Brit’s hand gripped his wrist tightly, noises decreasing to small whimpers that his powerful thrusts forced out. 

Just when Damien thought he was going to lose the fight to finish last, Pip stiffened and a growl escaped him, making his throat vibrate against Damien’s hand. His hole squeezed Damien tightly as he came, spilling himself on his stomach. Damien lasted no more than two more thrusts before finishing with a loud moan, burying himself deep inside Pip and pressing hard against his throat as he rode out his orgasm.

It didn’t snap. He wasn’t sure he could have lived with himself if it had.

He let out a heavy sigh when he finished and quickly let go of his husband’s neck. Panic set in when Pip didn’t move, merely lay still.

“Oh, fuck.” Damien whispered, lacing his fingers in his hair, “Pip?!” He’d never felt a fear like this before. It was like ice was running through his veins while a fire burned in his chest.

The blonde finally opened his eyes and smiled softly at him. His voice was a little hoarse as he spoke softly, “I’m fine, just catching my breath.”

Relief swept through him and an odd pressure built behind his eyes. “I’m so sorry…” He breathed, chest feeling tight, “God, I’m so fucking sorry…!”

“Hey, hey…” Pip soothed, reaching up and cupping Damien’s face, “Sweetie, it’s okay. I’m fine. It’s nothing to cry about.”

Cry?

For the first time Damien noticed that there was a wetness on his face. Tears? Is this was crying was like? He hadn’t cried since he was a toddler… It was oddly relieving. 

He buried his face in Pip’s shoulder and hugged the boy tightly, “I’m sorry… Sorry, sorry, sorry…” The word spilled from his lips over and over again, out of his control. What was he even apologizing for? He hadn’t killed his husband and Pip wasn’t mad. So why couldn’t he stop?

“Oh, honey…” Pip hugged him tightly, running his fingers through his hair, “Sshh, it’s _okay._ I’m not upset. I’m alright, there’s no need to cry.”

“I _know_.” Damien growled, “But how can you _not_ be upset that I nearly fucking _killed_ you?!”

“Well, it’s not like you _meant_ to.”

“It doesn’t _matter_!” Damien snarled, pushing himself up so he could glare down at the younger male, “I _could_ have! Why aren’t you _angry_ with me?!” 

Pip hardly seemed fearful of him. He tilted his head and looked at him sadly, “Do you want me to be?”

“Yes!”

“Well, I can’t. I love you, Damien, and I trust you. Getting mad isn’t going to change what happened and it certainly wouldn’t bring me back if I’d died. I don’t like anger. It just hurts and makes things worse.”

Damien’s shoulders drooped, his own anger dissipating. “You’re right…” He muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Pip smiled again, hugging him tightly, “Of course I forgive you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He buried his face in Pip’s neck again, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s _okay_!” Pip repeated, chuckling some, “You can honestly stop apologizing. Besides, I… I kind of liked it…”

“Really?” Damien pushed himself up again, giving his lover a curious look.

“Yes.” Pip’s face was red as he nodded, “I mean, not toward the end when I couldn’t breathe and it hurt, but before that… I dunno, it was kind of exhilarating to be held down like that…”

“Well, that’s too bad. Because I don’t want to touch your neck like that ever again.”

Pip chuckled, “That’s alright, I understand.” He cupped Damien’s face again and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. 

The taller male was more than happy to return it, deepening the kiss and squeezing his lover tightly.

Was this what happiness felt like?

He broke the kiss and rested their foreheads together, gazing softly at the blonde. “I take it you enjoyed having sex?”

“Oh, yes.” Pip grinned, nodding a bit, “It was amazing.”

“Even though I… Didn’t last very long?” He couldn’t meet Pip’s eye, feeling incredibly shameful for his short-comings.

“Didn’t last long? Are you picking on me?” Pip joked, nudging his shoulder, “I finished before you.”

“Only because I made you…” He quickly grew frustrated, “I should be able to last a lot longer… I always finish too fast…”

“Well…” Pip tangled his fingers in his hair, “Maybe it’s because you think about it too much, or maybe you just need more practice. We can work through it together.” 

“…You think that’ll work?”

Pip smiled, rubbing their noses together playfully, “Yes, I think so. And, you know what? Even if it doesn’t, if you still want to last longer, I bet there’s something we can buy that would help.”

“Maybe…” Damien looked at him again. He reached over and stroked his cheek, “You’re the first person I’ve slept with who hasn’t laughed at me for it.”

“That’s terrible.” Pip frowned, “I’d never laugh at you over something you obviously care a lot about. If it’s serious to you then it’s serious to me too.”

“That means the world to me… Thank you.”

“I know.” The blonde smiled, nuzzling him, “You’re very welcome.”

Damien kissed him lovingly before sitting up, feeling that it was about time to get cleaned up after that much-needed heart-to-heart. Many things were said that Damien never realized he really needed to hear. It was like a weight had been taken off his chest, like he didn’t have to be so guarded and fake.

It had only taken twenty-two years for him to finally start feeling human.

### 

Damien had been acting weird for months now. Well, noticeably weirder. Pip was aware that his husband had always been just a bit… off. Not in a bad way, necessarily, just off. He supposed anyone who’d lost so much would be though.

His grandparents, his little brother, his parents, a few boyfriends and girlfriends early on. Poor Damien. He deserved so much better than all that heartache.

Heartache was exactly what Pip had decided must be the main factor in the behavior. Damien had a tendency to, about once or twice every couple of weeks, just suddenly come at him very aggressively, as though attempting to initiate a fight or perhaps even to strike him, only to stop right next to him, pause, and pull him into a very tight hug.

It had been very startling at first, to say the least, but after about three times Pip stopped flinching. He decided it must have been Damien just needing some attention, but having no way of knowing how to go about it. His parents had been very distant after their second child passed so it would make sense that that would cause some emotional problems.

Pip didn’t mind though. He loved how clingy Damien could be at times, especially in bed. He insisted on holding him while he slept, which Pip was all too happy to comply with. He sometimes wondered if Damien was afraid he would try to leave while he was sleeping or something, the way he’d hold him so tightly at times.

The blonde never complained though. How could he? The man he loved and wanted to be with always and forever seemed to want the exact same thing, right down placing an emphasis on cuddling and talking rather than just having sex all the time.

Not that he minded having sex. He enjoyed it very much, actually, even if Damien seemed to be placing an abnormal amount of emphasis on his supposed low stamina. It didn’t seem like a big deal to the Brit, but it obviously bothered his husband a great deal, so he stayed supportive.

Husband. That was such a funny thing to think. Just months ago he’d been worried about finding even a date, now he was married.

The proposal hadn’t been fancy, but he hadn’t cared. As soon as the words “marry me” left Damien’s mouth he’d gone weak in the knees. It didn’t matter that Damien hadn’t planned something elaborate, just “marry me” said volumes. It said that he was in love, that he wanted them to spend the rest of their lives together, that he wanted no one else, and that he wanted Pip to want the same.

The rings were simple. Just a couple of silver bands, but the one on Pip’s finger was easily his most prized possession. He stared at it all the time, grinning like an idiot. It was fun to imagine them growing old together, getting to live their lives as a couple and sharing so many experiences, both good and bad.

Nothing bad so far though, save for that little spat in bed the other day. That hadn’t even really been an argument though, just Damien working through some things that had obviously been weighing on him quite a while. The blonde was thrilled he was willing to share intimate things about himself with him.

He wanted them to share absolutely everything with each other…

“Phillip.” A female voice made him jump. 

He quickly sat up, trying to look like he wasn’t swooning over his husband.

Again.

“Swooning again?” A heavy-set Hispanic woman grinned at him.

Darnit.

He felt his face heat up as he looked down at his desk, “Maybe…”

“You’re adorable, really. I remember being your age and doing the same thing, Hun. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Thank you, Carlena.” He smiled at her and picked up some files on his desk that he was supposed to be sorting, but had seen his ring and lost himself in thought again.

“Sure, sure. How was your weekend?” 

Carlena was so nice. She was easily Pip’s best friend, despite her being almost twenty years older, and his favorite person to work with. It was great to have someone he could talk to that could give him good advice. 

“Fine.” He stood, carrying the files with him to the sorting room, where files like this were kept in large filing cabinets, “Damien and I got… intimate… for the first time.” He was blushing again, wasn’t he?

“Ooohhh!” She giggled, following behind him with her own folders, “Bout time!”

“Well, he was worried about hurting me…” Pip admitted shyly, “I understood why pretty quickly. Let’s just say that next time I’m out I should probably by a larger size of you-know-what’s.” 

“Aaaah!” She laughed, “Luckyyyy!! Did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, definitely.” He nodded, opening up a filing drawer, “But…” He hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I feel like I didn’t last very long, you know? And I know he doesn’t care but I’d like to be able to go a little longer. Any advice?” He used to feel bad about lying, but sometimes you just needed to.

“Well, I went through the same thing with my husband a few years back too and we found out that, for one thing, being relaxed and using a lot of foreplay helps. For you I’d say practice would do wonders too. If you’re interested though, a cock ring might be the way to go. They’re supposed to stave off orgasm or something and keep your little soldier at attention so you can go longer.”

Pip chuckled at her words. “Thank you very much. I might go pick one up after work.”

“Awesome. So, Jerry’s birthday is coming up…”

### 

He needed to remember to thank Carlena later, assuming his brains weren’t screwed right out of his skull. It was incredibly hard to think with Damien slamming into him like a jackhammer. How long had they been at it? Didn’t really matter. Probably wasn’t ending anytime soon either.

Whimpers escaped him, but not much else. Despite Damien’s words the previous day, the dominant male’s hand found its way once again to his neck, pressing down but not enough to cut off his air. He could do nothing but lay there, hands gripping the sheets tightly, and take the onslaught of amazing thrusts. They hit him hard and deep, making his head feel light and tingly.

He could see why Damien had wanted to last longer.

The older male sighed heavily and slowed until he stopped. He smirked down at his lover and released his neck, stroking his cheek instead.

“Why’d you stop?” Pip asked, panting heavily. God, his legs felt like jello.

“Just taking a breather.” Damien replied, gazing down at him in adoration, “Enjoying yourself?”

“ _God_ , yes.” Pip grinned, “This is fantastic.”

“I told you.” He leaned down and kissed his forehead, speaking softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.” Pip kissed his chin, glad he’d been able to help his husband.

Damien sat up again and put a hand on either side of Pip’s head, smirk back in place, “I wanna hear you scream for me this time.”

“Shouldn’t be tough.” 

He started slow, but very quickly built up speed again, ramming Pip with everything he had.

The blonde had no control over the noises he made or their volume. Words of praise fell from his lips mixed with shameless begging. Would he be able to walk after this?

Did he care?

He gripped Damien’s wrists tightly, needing something solid to hold onto to keep him on the bed, it felt like. His body twitched and jerked and arched and writhed as Damien moved, working him back up to another orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum!” He whimpered, holding onto his lover for dear life.

“Cum for me.” Damien growled, hitting him harder, “I’m close too.”

He felt the orgasm all over his body, making him see stars. He couldn’t move, could hardly breathe, only feel. It was over in seconds, leaving him feeling drained but thoroughly satisfied.

Damien groaned above him and his thrusts became erratic. He watched his lover stiffen, heard him moan his name lowly, felt him finish inside. 

Both men panted heavily, trembling just slightly. Damien laid down on top of him, burying his face in his shoulder and holding his sides gently.

“Wow.” Pip breathed, hugging his lover.

“Yeah, better be ‘wow.’ I worked my ass off.” Damien replied jokingly, kissing his neck.

“Well, you did bloody fantastic.” The Brit reassured, kissing his temple, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pushed himself up and gently slid out. The condom was heavy with semen, which Pip found oddly interesting. He often wondered if Damien ever masturbated. He never talked about doing it nor had Pip ever caught him and he took very short showers. He just didn’t seem the type to be very interested in the act.

Damien tossed the condom in the trash and grabbed a Kleenex so Pip could clean himself off while Damien carefully removed the cock ring. Once both men were cum-free they laid down together, spooning. 

Pip sighed, gripping Damien’s hand. Their wedding rings clinked together softly, bringing a smile to his face. He could feel Damien’s smile against his back shortly before a kiss was placed on his shoulder. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Damien purred, nuzzling the back of his neck.

“Literally two minutes ago.” Pip chuckled, “I love you too, you big dork.”

“Haha, you love a dork.” Damien teased, “What does that say about you?”

“That I’m a wonderful person who could love someone no matter what their faults.” Pip proclaimed smartly, grinning over his shoulder.

Silence.

He was beginning to worry when Damien let him go and gently rolled him onto his back so he could look at him. Those dark eyes stared down at him, worry apparent.

“What’s wrong?” Pip asked softly, looking at him with concern.

Damien stared awhile longer. Sadness flickered across his face. He opened his mouth, but it was a few moments before any sound came out, “I… I’ve done some things… That I’m not proud of.”

“Oh…” Pip said softly. “Well, that’s okay. Everyone has things they’re not proud of. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Alright. I’m here if you ever want to though, you know that.”

Damien nodded and laid down, resting his head on Pip’s chest. He hugged him tightly, burying his face in his neck, “Promise you’ll never leave me.”

“I won’t. Ever.” Pip soothed, wrapping his arms around his husband.

“Good. I fucking love you so much it scares me.”

“You don’t have to be scared. I love you too and I’ll never leave, I promise.”

They fell into silence. Pip easily fell asleep in a matter of minutes, his lover’s warmth lulling him into a comfortable dreamland.

### 

Damien laid awake for quite some time, staring at the wall in silence. His husband slept soundly, but he could not bring himself to close his eyes and relax just yet.

So much going on in his head, in his heart.

He knew by now that he could not possibly do it. There was no way he could ever bring himself to kill Phillip. Not out of anger, not out of spite, not to protect himself, and not for the life insurance. 

He loved him.

God, he fucking _loved_ him.

He hadn’t even thought that was possible.

He hugged the small body a little tighter, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He felt safe here, happy, protected. It was strange, usually _he_ was the protector; he was strong and fearless and angry and unafraid to literally squeeze someone’s neck until they stopped fighting. Really, he still was, but Pip protected him in a different way.

Protected him from himself, from his urges, from his emotions. Protected him from the things in his mind that had plagued him for years. Pip had a way of getting him to open up his most painful and damaged parts of himself and finding a way to mend them. Maybe he couldn’t solve everything, much like one couldn’t truly solve a horrid burn, but he soothed. The scar would always be there, but the pain and the burning were soothed, allowing the damaged flesh to go unnoticed for a while.

He felt… Oddly soothed. He didn’t want that to stop, ever. 

He sighed, relaxing some and finally closing his eyes. 

He had always worked so hard to stomp out each and every weakness his whole life. Kill those who were a threat, who might be used against you, who brought you down. 

Pip was a huge weakness.

What would he do if the police ever figured out he was the killer? They’d tell Pip, he might turn on him, and he couldn’t possibly take that. What if some crazy murderer, much like himself, ever tried to use Pip as leverage? Of course he’d fucking bend to the bastards will in order to spare the blonde. What if Pip fell out of love with him, left him? He didn’t even know what he could possibly do with himself after that. What if Pip demanded something from him? Of course he’d do whatever he asked.

He’d do anything for Phillip, which made him his greatest weakness.

A weakness he could never, ever get rid of.

And he was fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment to let me know. A simple comment goes a long way in encouraging, motivating, and inspiring writers to continue creating and sharing stories for you to enjoy.


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